Beside Me… Always
by RoseDragonWitch
Summary: Harry proudly accepted the title of 'Dumbledore's man through and through' but how little does he, do we realize that Dumbledore was 'Harry's man through and through? Their years together, now through Albus's eyes, see the bond that these two share.
1. Hope at the Hogshead

**Chapter 1: Hope at the Hogshead**

(This is right before Harry got his scar. When we learn about the prophecy from Trelawney.)

It was a week before Halloween as a tall and thin, with a long, silver beard that looks as though it could be tucked into his belt, and long, silver hair. He had twinkling blue eyes that, when angered, flash like a cold blue flame, that were shining behind half-moon spectacles.

Albus Dumbledore was walking up a large street in Godric's Hallow. He admired at all the decorations that were going up for Halloween; nothing like at Hogwarts of course, but he found them charming. The pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns littered across the square and the shop windows covered in paper spiders and bats were making everything look festive.

Dumbledore smiled slightly, though it was tinged with sadness. It had been several years since he had last visited this place. Godric's Hallow… it was the place where he grew up… the place where he lived with his family… this was the place where everything started for him. This was the place where he lost everything.

He passed a few Muggle kids who were running around looking at all the decorations with excited expressions on their faces.

One of them, a little girl looking no older than 7, stopped to look at him with curious eyes. She looked at him up and down before saying, "Mister? I really like your costume! But Halloween is still a week away."

Dumbledore smiled at the girl. "I know," he said happily, "But I couldn't wait to try out my costume." See, he was wearing a set of blue robes with stars and planets embroidered into them and a pointed hat made of the same material. On anyone else, these clothes would have been called odd. On him, they looked natural. And since it was nearly Halloween, he knew that he could pass it off without looking too suspicious.

The girl grinned before saying, "You look like Merlin with that beard and clothes! Are you going as Merlin?"

Dumbledore chuckled lightly, "Yes, you are a bright girl."

She smiled proudly before her older brother came over to her. "Sis? Come on. We have to go home now."

The girl sighed unhappily but nodded. She waved goodbye to Dumbledore before she went running off across the street.

"Sorry if she bothered you, sir," said the boy sounding exasperated, "She's really annoying sometimes."

Albus shrugged, "It was no problem. And she didn't seem annoying to me. She's curious like all children."

The boy rolled his eyes and said, "You can say that again. She follows me everywhere I go. She wants to know everything I'm doing, and she doesn't get the hint that I don't want her to."

Dumbledore frowned. "Maybe she just wants to be with you. Do you have any other brothers or sisters?" he asked.

Surprised at the question, the boy shook his head.

"Well that just makes her all the more precious," he said gravely. "I once knew a little boy who used to live in this village. He had a little brother and sister to look out for and… well… let's just say he did a terrible job doing it. As a brother, it's your job to make sure that your sister is happy… and that boy failed."

Dumbledore sighed sadly before continuing, "You're the only big brother that your sister's going to have. So say if something bad happens to her someday or she starts to travel down a dark road all alone, it's your job to help her through it all."

"What could happen?" the boy asked softly.

Dumbledore shrugged, "Anything can happen. Youth may think that they're invincible, but that's not true." He then bent down to look at the little boy eye to eye and said, "Don't make the same mistakes that that boy made. He ended up regretting his actions for the rest of his life."

The boy looked sympathetic as he began to think over what Dumbledore said.

"Take good care of her," Albus said as he gestured to the little girl who was waiting for her brother to hurry up. "She's the most precious thing you have right now. You never realize how important someone is to you… until you lose them."

The boy left without another word… but when he reached his sister, he took her hand and they began to walk home. They both turned back to wave to the old man in the wizard hat however.

Dumbledore waved back as he thought about his own words. Yes, that little boy would take good care of his sister. He didn't want him to suffer like he had gone through.

Dumbledore smiled sadly again before continuing on his way. It felt good to smile again, even if it was a bit forced. The entire Wizarding World has had precious little to laugh about these days. Tom Riddle, a.k.a Voldemort, was spreading like a plague over the entire countryside.

No one knew who to trust, or what to do, people dying left and right, things seemed to be getting worse by the day. However, just when things seemed at their lowest point, a little gleam of hope appeared on a cold, wet night at the Hog's Head inn.

A prophecy… about a child born to parents who have defied Voldemort three times… born at the end of July.

_*Flashback*_

_The Hogshead_

_"A Firewhiskey, please, Aberforth," said a very old man with a long white beard and mustache. His eyes were twinkling merrily._

_"So, what are you doing in Hogsmead, Albus?" asked the bartender, as he put down the very dirty glass he had been cleaning (with an equally dirty rag) and reached under the counter to grab a drink. _

_"A candidate for the Divination position. She chose your pub to host the interview," Dumbledore said, smiling as he glanced around at the dingy place._

_"Did she now?" the bartender said, handing him his drink, which the old man took, in exchange for a few silver sickles._

_"Thank you, Aberforth, and I hope it goes well, though I am not too wholehearted on the subject. Still, it is a subject and if she is a suitable teacher, she shall have the position. I believe you have a private room at the back?" he said, gazing over his half-moon spectacles at the bartender. The bartender nodded and waved with his rag towards the back._

_Dumbledore walked pass the tables and the few customers, who all of them had their faces covered. He knocked on the door to the private room and went inside. Waiting for him was a very odd looking woman, odd mainly for the way she was dressed. She had beads and spangles galore around her neck and odd rings on her fingers. She was wearing odd clothes, a maroon colored dress that just hung on her as if it were too big, and glasses that magnified her eyes to at least ten times their normal size, giving her a bug-like appearance. She had wispy hair and was drinking some of Ogden's Best Firewhisky as she smiled at Dumbeldore._

_"Good evening, Sybilll Trelawney," greeted Dumbledore in a pleasant tone._

_"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore," Trelawney said in a mystic tone. _

_"I have read your application and found it…interesting to say the least …which is why I am here, of course," he said, and his lips twitched as if to smile when he said interesting. "I will have to ask you a few questions before I know if I can give you the job or not."_

_"I knew you would," Sybilll Trelawney said in her misty voice, putting emphasis on the word, 'knew.'_

_"Yes…well, let's get on with the interview. I am, sadly, a bit pushed for time these days," said Professor Dumbledore cheerfully, though there was an under layer of sorrow and quiet urgency in his voice. "It said on your application that you are the great-great-granddaughter of Cassandra Trelawney, am I right?"_

_"Yes, you are correct," said Miss Trelawney in her misty voice. "The Sight usually comes… err… every three generations. But it also comes with a great burden," she said. She sighed melodramatically. Professor Dumbledore's lips twitched again and had to fight to not to laugh._

_"I am sure it is. Now, I need to ask if you can make me a prediction for me," Professor Dumbledore asked._

_She lost her misty expression for a second as she gave him a sharp look. "The inner eye does not See upon command, Professor," her voice losing some of its mistiness for a brief second. "Though I can tell you this…there are dark and terrible times ahead for us all. Yes, danger and destruction and…ahhh, but do I dare say it… death?" she said, her voice even mistier. _

_Professor Albus Dumbledore didn't smile here, nor did his eyes twinkle like they normally did. There were hard times ahead for all. Horrible times that he and a few comrades were trying to stop, but not succeeding. However, he didn't need anyone to predict that for him._

_He had just reminded himself, at that moment, that he had an interview to conduct, not plans to come up with. "Yes, I see. Well, can you tell me why you think you would be a good candidate for this position?" he asked._

_"Yes, I shall. I was crystal gazing one day and saw standing in front of a group of young people. They were all giving me their undivided and captivated attention. I knew that I had Seen myself teaching. Who am I to ignore fate? If I Saw myself holding this position, then I surely shall. I applied at once. I am a Seer, and who better to teach Divination than the great-great-granddaughter of a Seer, no less," her voice lost some of its mistiness here and was infused with pride. "I shall be able to teach your students how crystal gaze, palm reading, and all the other noble art of the misunderstood and undervalued subject of Divination," she finished with a dramatic flourish. _

_Professor Dumbledore had heard enough. He was disinclined to continue divination, and there were no teachers he thought suitable for the job. Miss Trelawney's supposed sight of herself teaching sounded to him as a convenient excuse, one that he had heard from most of the other candidates. He was normally trusting, but he had had enough people try to trick him to get this position that he was a bit skeptical of it. It was a subject he disliked anyway._

_"Thank you, Sybill Trelawney, but I must inform you, with regret, the Divination will no longer be taught at Hogwarts," he noticed that she had gone stiff, her eyes unfocused and her mouth slack. He had decided to leave her to herself. "Good day, Miss Trelawney. I am sorry things did not work out."_

_But as he turned around and headed towards the door, he heard something that would end up changing, not only his life, but the lives of everyone in the Wizarding World._

**_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…"_**_ a harsh voice suddenly said. He turned around quickly to look at Sybill Trelawney._

_"Miss Trelawney?" he said, concerned. _

_Her eyes started to roll.** "…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…" **the harsh voice was issuing from Sybill Trelawney. She was, Dumbledore realized, making a real prediction. She was a true Seer, if not a very gifted one. Suddenly, there was a commotion outside. Trelawney was snapped out of her trance by the angry voices, though only half so. She seemed to be in some kind of daze, not truly aware and yet she knew what was going on._

_"…YOUR lot aren't welcomed here…" one man said, and Dumbledore recognized this as the voice of his brother, Aberforth._

_"Let go of me, you…" came another voice, colder and deeper. Dumbledore thought he recognized this one as well. He walked over and threw the door open._

_"Snape!" he said astonished. Severus Snape stopped struggling and looked with fear at Dumbledore, who was practically giving off cold fury. Dumbledore knew he was being spied on by a known Death Eater, and Sybill Trelawney was just giving information crucial to both sides of the war. "Aberforth, would you escort our… guest… downstairs. Please hold him there for me. Thank you," Dumbledore said shortly. He turned on his heels and walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. Before the door had closed however, Snape had his last words._

_"You filthy mudblood and muggle lover! I hope you…" just then, luckily, the door shut, so Dumbledore didn't hear what Snape hoped for him, though he had a pretty good idea what he was about to say._

_Trelawney asked in a voice barely above a whisper, still not completely out of her trance, "Why was Severus Snape at the door? Was the trying to get tips on his own interview?" _

_But before Dumbledore could answer, she suddenly went back into a whole stupor to finish the prediction._

**_"And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…"_**_ she said in her now harsh tones. Dumbledore was painfully aware how crucial, and dangerous, this information was. That there was someone who had the power to defeat Voldemort._

**_"And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…"_**_ she as her eyes began to droop. Dumbledore felt pity for this boy. After all, it sounds like his life will either end by murder or become the killer. Neither was a very promising future for a young boy, just born._

**_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_**_ she said again, and suddenly the trance fully lifted and her head fell forward slightly. She coughed slightly before looking up. "I am sorry," she said, in her again misty voice, "I didn't hear what you just said."_

_Dumbledore stared at her for a moment before he said with a smile, "Welcome to the Hogwarts, professor."_

_She nodded, as if expecting it, "I knew it would be so."_

_Dumbledore merely nodded. "Yes, well, I am sorry, but I have to leave. I have some urgent business to attend to. Move into Hogwarts today. I am sure Minerva McGonagall will be happy to show you about," he smiled again. He knew she would safe at Hogwarts. Safe from Voldemort, who would certainly want to hear the prophecy completely. He knew that she didn't remember giving it; at least her actions said she didn't, but Voldemort wouldn't know that. Dumbledore left and she smiled as she sipped her whisky._

_"Albus!" his brother called to him as he headed towards the door, so preoccupied by what he had heard he had quite forgotten about Snape. He turned around to look at this brother, who was frantic and worried. "I had him here, and as soon as I turned around… he was gone! He must have disapparated, I didn't think about that!" _

_Albus nodded distractedly and said, "It's okay," but he knew it wasn't. This made it all the more urgent that he speak to Lily and James Potter and to Frank and Alice Longbottom, both who had faced Voldemort three times and had a newborn son born at the end of July this year. They would need to go into hiding as soon as possible. Snape would surely tell Voldemort, who would most certainly go after them…they needed to be warned._

**_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…"_**_ he thought to himself. Well, here was a small hope in this terrible war. Now he had something on which to build a plan to destroy Voldemort for good. As sorry as he was for the boy, countless lives and people would depend upon him, even if unknowingly. He had found hope from Trelawney's mouth. He smiled, a truly happy smile with twinkling eyes, and thought, 'I have found hope for the world. I found hope at the Hogshead.'_

_*End of Flashback*_

Dumbledore continued on his way until he came to a new and darker street. He wanted to come and check on Lily and James one more time before the Fidelius Charm was cast. He treaded on the dead leaves that littered the pavement until he finally arrived at a large, stone cottage where the Potter's lived. The curtains were still open and he could see them clearly.

Lily was sitting in a large armchair with the child on her lap. She appeared to have been reading to him from a large book while he sucked on something silvery. The child continued sucking happily on the cloth while his mother was saying words he could not hear, her long dark-red hair falling over her face.

It was truly a sweet and loving sight as Dumbledore opened the small gate, which creaked a little as he stepped onto the property.

(Hope you like this story so far! Please review and let me know if you want me to continue it!)

Preview: Dumbledore wants to borrow James's Invisibility Cloak. Well he's going to have a time getting it away from baby Harry.


	2. Someone Special

**Chapter 2: Someone Special**

***Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own, so you don't sue***

Dumbledore continued on his way until he came to a new and darker street. He wanted to come and check on Lily and James one more time before the Fidelius Charm was cast. He treaded on the dead leaves that littered the pavement until he finally arrived at a large, stone cottage where the Potter's lived. The curtains were still open and he could see them clearly.

Lily was sitting in a large armchair with the child on her lap. She appeared to have been reading to him from the 'Tales of Beedle the Bard' while he sucked on something silvery. The child continued sucking happily on the cloth while his mother was saying words he could not hear, her long dark-red hair falling over her face.

It was truly a sweet and loving sight as Dumbledore opened the small gate, which creaked a little as he stepped onto the property.

Albus had always been very fond of Lily and James Potter. Anyone who ever met them could not help but feel the same way. Remarkable people, similar and yet also completely different, it was almost like they were destined for each other.

Albus had had the blessing of meeting many extraordinary people, and Lily and James Potter were among the best of them.

He smiled again at the image of Lily reading to her 1 year old son before he knocked on the front door. He looked up at the window to see Lily looking fearful and was holding her child close to her as if she was expecting someone to come in and take her baby from her.

In these troubled times that have been happening a lot lately.

"Who's there?" demanded a tight voice from the other side of the door.

"James? It is I, Albus Dumbledore."

The man with jet black hair and glasses opened the door with a relived sigh. "Dumbledore. I thought that you said that you weren't going to come until later." He stood back to let the old wizard inside.

"Lily?" James called, "It's ok. It's Dumbledore."

He heard a sigh of relief from the next room before he entered to greet her.

Lily was holding little Harry in her arms and she smiled brightly when she saw Dumbledore. "Professor Dumbledore, sir?" she said politely.

"Lily dear, how many times must I ask you to call me Albus?"

The red haired woman grinned and even with the bags under her eyes and her strained tiredness it was a beautiful smile no less.

"Oh, I don't suppose I'll ever lose the habit of calling you 'professor,'" she replied, suddenly seeming very far away as she remembered the days of sheltered protection at Hogwarts.

At that moment, the energetic and very active child began to squirm in his mother's arms.

"Mama, mama, mama," Harry warbled out as he snuggled his head into the crock of Lily's neck.

For a moment, Lily held her son, breathing in his fading baby scent. Albus could practically feel the love that just seemed radiated off them both. Soon though, Harry pushed away and began to bounce in her arms as he babbled to her in a language all his own.

Harry did not like being in one place for too long. He had wanted to get up and run around, but Lily was not fast enough to catch him when he really got going. Leaving Harry on his play rug which grew a three foot high border the moment she walked five feet away, and walked over to her husband and guest.

"What brings you here professor?" she asked.

"I just wanted to check on you both one more time before the Fidelius Charm is cast," he answered. "I'm sorry that this had to happen but…"

"Albus?" James interrupted suddenly, "The prophecy that you mention… do you really think that it's talking about Harry?"

All three of them both looked over at the 1 year old that was still sucking on some kind of cloak and looking back at them with bright green eyes.

"I don't know," Albus said truthfully. "But Voldemort seems to think so."

"But he's just a baby," Lily said upset. "Why did it have to be MY baby?"

The three adults all went into the living room and sat down to talk some more about what's happening with the rest of the Order.

There Harry sat, unnoticed by any of the adults for a short time, he quietly began to suck on the silvery cloak again. His tiny little fingers were wrapped around it as they talked about how the McKinnons were killed just last week. Lily began to cry at that news.

Even the slightest things seem make Lily Potter start to cry. Maybe her senses were going mad these days, with the threat of Voldemort, and not knowing when and if they would be suddenly attacked by the dark wizard.

James leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips to calm her down. For a brief moment, Dumbledore could see her fears seemed to vanish for a brief moment, but sorrow once again filled her face once they broke away. It wasn't until she looked down at her son, did she smile again at the sight of his face, so innocent and happy.

Dumbledore looked down at him and noticed the object that the infant was sucking on for the first time. For a few moments, he couldn't make out what it was. "James? What's Harry holding?" he asked curiously.

James looked down at the cloak and said unruffled, "My invisibility cloak."

"Your what?" Dumbledore repeated, his eyes never leaving the cloak.

"My invisibility cloak," James repeated. "It's been in my family for years."

Albus got up to look over the pen to see the cloak better. Little Harry looked up at him with a corner of the cloak still in his mouth.

"May I see it Harry?" Dumbledore asked politely as if the boy could understand.

Without another word, Lily stood up and went over to lift up Harry out of his enclosure. James also got up and handed Albus an edge of the cloth, leaving the other half in his son's tiny hands. Dumbledore ran his hand over the silky texture and started shaking his head in amazement. After all these years… the third Deathly Hallow had been here all along.

"So this is the thing that's responsible for seven years of mayhem," Dumbledore said.

"Well more like six," James corrected. "First year was pure us."

Dumbledore looked over it once, he had long-since given up his dream of uniting the Hallows, but he couldn't help himself. "Do you both mind if I borrow this? Just for a few days?"

"Why?" Lily asked surprise. "Doesn't Mad-eye already have a couple?"

"Besides," James said unwilling to hand over the family heirloom. "I thought you told us that you didn't need a cloak to become invisible."

"I know," Albus said. His voice was calm, but his heart was racing. "But I just want to borrow it. A week at the most. Do you mind?"

James looked over at Lily before saying, "I guess its ok with me. I mean, it's not like I can use it trapped in the house but…"

"But what?" Albus asked.

"Good luck trying to get it away from Harry," Lily finished with a slight smile.

Dumbledore looked at Harry and he could tell right away that the child did **not** want this cloak to go away. Still clutching to it, Harry stared back at the headmaster. He had a bit of the cloak still in his mouth and continued chewing on it.

"May I have the cloak, Harry?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

Harry's answer was to increase his grip on the cloak and leaned back against his mother. Harry giggled, which was muffled due to the cloak still in his mouth.

"Harry, sweetie," Lily cooed, gently rocking him, "Dumbledore wants to take the cloak for awhile. He'll bring it back."

"Come on, Harry," James made to take his son away from Lily while she hung onto the cloak. Once he began to feel the silvery fabric leave his fingers, Harry began to wail loudly.

"Oh Harry," Lily sighed.

"He really likes that cloak, doesn't he?" Dumbledore asked.

Lily nodded. "No idea why, though," she said.

Dumbledore seemed to ponder for a moment or two. He then waved his wand, conjuring a small plush Snitch in the same fabric as the Invisibility Cloak. He handed it to Harry.

Who took the Snitch, stared at it for a second or two before he tossed it across the room.

Laughing, James ruffled Harry's hair, "I guess he doesn't like it."

As the three adults stood there, wondering how to sneak the cloak out of the house without Harry noticing. Albus was dying to look over the cloak, but he didn't want to upset the child.

Dumbledore looked at him soothingly until Harry's eyes met him. "May I please borrow the cloak Harry?" he asked gently, "I promise that I'll bring it back." He then reached over to touch the cloth, making sure the boy could see. "May I?"

Harry looked at him carefully, as if trying to see if he could trust the man. Then very slowly, his grip on the cloak slackened, and he finally let it go.

"Thank you Harry," Albus said as he ignored the baby spit. He shook the slobber-covered cloak before he carefully folded the Invisibility Cloak over his arm.

Harry clung to Lily with one arm and used the other to point eagerly to the rolled up rug in the living room. Lily waved her wand, causing a play rug to roll out to the middle of the room and toys to place themselves onto the rug. The moment Harry was set down onto the rug he reached for a pile of stuffed animals. The second Harry touched one of the toys, all of them came alive. They stood up and walked over to him. They surrounded him as they barked, howled, squeaked and neighed.

"Dance," Harry cried, pointing to the toys.

Instantly, the five stuffed animals began to dance around the little boy. Harry giggled and clapped excitedly as Lily looked on fondly. She sat down behind her son and watched him command his toys to do his will. They danced, jumped, and so much more, but often, they ended up in a free for all fight. While she paid attention to the child, Dumbledore and James continued to talk more about what's been happening to the Wizarding World.

"Albus," James asked. "Just how long do we have to stay hidden?"

"I don't know James," Dumbledore replied truthfully. "Voldemort is determined to go after your son. Who's to say what could happen."

"Daddy, daddy, daddy!" Harry chanted, standing up with his arms held out.

"Ha ha ha…" James mocked laughed as he picked Harry up.

"Daddy," Harry said, laughing.

"He's vocal isn't he?" Dumbledore said laughing. "Looks like you both have your hands full these days. Even without the Order."

"Yeah," James answered, "It's gotten harder now that Harry can walk. But Albus… I was wondering… do you think that maybe we can take Harry out for Halloween for just a little…"

"James," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "You know that its do dangerous for you to leave the house. What if someone were to see you? The news of what area you are in could get back to Voldemort. He could find you."

"Yeah but…" James began, desperate to find some excuse to get out of the house. He put Harry back down next to Lily as he tried to think of something to convince Dumbledore.

"James, I know that this is hard on you," Lily said sadly from the floor as she stroked Harry's hair. "It's hard on all of us, but we can't risk it."

Harry, at that moment, started to chase his little toy dog around the place until he bumped into the bookcase in the corner of the living room. The small toy broomstick Sirius had gotten Harry for his birthday a few month ago fell from the top of the bookcase to the floor. Harry squealed in excitement when he saw it hovering before him.

"Oh no!" Lily exclaimed in horror as she got up. "James get it before he…"

Too late. Harry swung a leg over the broom and mounted it; and he was off. James and Dumbledore both stood back as the baby went flying past them.

"I'll get him!" James yelled as he went after him. Albus kept laughing James bolted after his son with Lily coming from the other direction. Harry zoomed off in another direction and Lily and James ran right into each other. They fell to the floor in a heap. Harry laughed gleefully. He zoomed all around the room, two feet off of the floor. He bumped into the coffee table, knocking over a flower vase. He slammed into a side table, toppling over a beautiful lamp. Both fell to the floor and smashed into pieces.

As Harry zoomed around, Lily stopped for a moment and saw the camera on the table. Unable to help it, she quickly snapped a picture of James chasing Harry on the broom. After three months, Lily had a whole photo album of Harry flying around and bumping into things. Maybe she would send this one to Sirius. She knew that he enjoyed it; the picture would make another reminder to embarrass James with later on.

"How does he do it?" Dumbledore asked her as she lay the camera down. The one thing Harry would willingly do for hours was to fly on that blasted broom. And once he got going, there was no catching him. He flew as if he had years of experience. He could dodge left and right as if he instinctively knew how to get away from being captured.

"I'm going to kill Sirius for getting him that," Lily growled.

"I'll help," James said. Although Dumbledore knew that James was secretly proud of his son's ability. James once said to him that he pictured his son in Gryffindor Quidditch robes as a chaser, or maybe even a seeker. Harry seemed to enjoy the speed more than anything else, and Dumbledore wouldn't be surprised to see him on a Quidditch team when he went to school.

"Do you need some help?" Dumbledore asked politely though his eyes were still twinkling with laughter.

"Please," Lily said in defeat.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and waved it at the child. The broom turned and began to slow down until it came to a stop before them. Lily picked Harry up causing him to yell in anger as James got the broom and hid it. Harry cried as he reached out for the broom.

"No, no, little one," Lily said sternly.

"Thanks Albus," James said smacking himself with his fist, "Why didn't I think of that?"

"I never was a big supporter of divination," Dumbledore said, "But I predict that he's going to be an amazing Quidditch player in the future."

Harry yawned and rubbed his face against his mother's chest. Smiling, James said, "Looks like he finally wore himself out."

Suddenly, there was another knock on the door. Tensing up, James pulled out his wand as he made his way to the front door. A minute later they heard him call out, "It's ok! It's just Sirius!"

Lily let out a breath that she wasn't aware that she was holding. Dumbledore, who was getting ready to leave, but Lily asked, "Can we talk for a moment?"

Slightly surprised, Albus nodded and followed her as she carried Harry upstairs to his crib to give him a nap. There was barely a sound as she opened the door to Harry's small bedroom. The soft carpet felt warm beneath her feet, a huge transition from the cool wooden floors in the hall.

Before Dumbledore entered the nursery, he watched the two for a moment. A soothing, quiet 'shh' escaped her lips as Harry settled once again to slumber, resting his head against her shoulder. Lily kissed her son's forehead and hummed a soft lullaby.

Though he slept, Lily rocked him for a while longer as she looked upon his face. Albus could see the love she had for Harry filled her heart as it always did when she looked at him. But with that love was a worry.

He felt guilty. The most evil wizard to ever live was after her son all because of a prophecy that he told her about. Voldemort wanted to kill Harry because one day Harry might be the one to stand before him and put an end to his reign of terror. With a deep breath, she put aside her worries. Pressing a small kiss on his forehead, Lily placed Harry into his crib, who fell asleep immediately once he hit his mattress.

"You know I was really surprised that he gave you the cloak like that," she said, not looking at Dumbledore. "Normally he gets really upset if he doesn't have it. It's like his security blanket."

Dumbledore ran his hand over the cloak again before he said, "I promise to bring it back."

Lily still didn't look at him, her eyes glued to her sleeping boy. "Oh I know that. But still, it was really surprising. A bit cruel though, taking his favorite thing from him and hope that he forgets it? I hope you borrowing it is for a good reason."

"Of course it is. Now that Sirius is here you can make him your secret keeper. The Fidelius Charm can only protect you if-"

For the first time in her life, Lily Potter interrupted him, and began to say things that seemed as if she had been dying to have an excuse to say. War did that to people.

"Sir, I know the risks, but I talked to you."

Albus noted the desperation in her voice and eyes, and nodded for her to speak.

The woman who was aged beyond her years sighed heavily, and Albus could almost see the walls she kept her emotions secured behind fall away before his eyes.

"I don't think I can do it anymore," she gushed, "I'm so tired of this ridiculous war. I can hardly sleep at night because I don't know what could happen tomorrow! And now this thing with the prophecy…" she faltered, looking down at her hands, emotions and fears spilling out as quickly as her words did.

"I keep feeling as if we'll be attacked at any moment, I trust P-Sirius with all my heart, but I'm so scared for James and Harry. What if I'm injured, or I die? What will happen to Harry? Who'll take care of him? I'm trying my very hardest to stay strong for them both, I am, really. But…" she sniffed, and wiped away the tears that were spilled freely down her cheeks.

Albus noted sorrowfully that these were almost identical response to what James had said the last time that he saw him, just with names reversed.

"This isn't right," she went on forcefully. "This isn't the life James and I were supposed to have, this isn't what we had planned and this isn't the world I want my baby to grow up in. In a world where he could be killed at any second? Where he will spend his whole life threatened with death, just because some prophecy was made about him! While me and James can't do anything except sit and hide and hope for the best, even when it seems that it has already been foretold that he could end up becoming Voldemort's next victim? It is wrong! Everything is all wrong… nothing is like it was supposed to be!"

Her breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed whatever she had been about to say. Closing her eyes briefly, she looked up at her old professor and mentor, eyes beseeching him to give her an ounce of hope. Something that she could hang onto. Albus stared back at her, sympathy and remorse shown distinctly in his warm gaze.

"Please… I'm so terrified for us all," she whispered barely audible to the man she was pleading with, though in truth she was pleading with the whole world. Albus knew that she saw him as some kind of beacon; the symbol of hope that could encourage her to carry on, and persuade everything to be as it should be.

Though, in Dumbledore's heart he knew… knew that he was just a single man, and that these were false hopes she carried. One man could not change the whole world, no matter how hard she pleaded, begged, or prayed.

Maybe one person could change the world… but it wasn't him.

Albus grasped her thin, pale hands in his own old ones, "Lily… that is why we are here; to change the world so that others after us may live as we hope to. No one can live without sacrifices; for us, I fear, those sacrifices will be great, but they will ensure that your child will live in a safer and more secure world. Harry, at least, has a chance for a better life. I cannot promise you it will all turn out for the best, but I can promise to try my utmost hardest to see that it does."

Lily wiped her tears off her face and sniffled, trying to get a grip on herself.

"Nothing is ever certain Lily, that is why we have to be strong, you have to be strong… so we can face together whatever they throw at us. For your husband, and your son. We all wish that none of this had to happen… but that won't mean that it'll be like this forever."

It was a speech to be proud of, but it was not praised; it only brought more tears to the listener's eyes, and pained the heart of the speaker. Albus knew the world had gone very wrong at some point, to let such innocent people suffer so, and force young families like the Potter's to fear for their lives. He wished with all his heart he could change it all; give these people a chance at a decent life. But that was just a promise that he couldn't make.

Harry Potter or Lord Voldemort… the world's fate rested on a baby boy and a twisted, evil wizard who was barely human anymore.

Words; all Albus had was words. They might spur hope and trust right now, but when the final battle comes; they would be useless.

Albus watched the woman before him; who part of him still saw the same little girl who first arrived on the Hogwarts Express, new to Hogwarts and the Wizarding World. She nodded to herself and him, wiping her red eyes and blotchy face.

"Harry, whether I liked it or not, will definitely be a spoiled child," she said quietly, smoothing down her robes and not looking up. Finally, she managed to control her glistening eyes, and meet the gaze of the man in front of her. "And we would make his birthday absolutely spectacular! And the Christmases! That's something to look forward to. And when he gets older, James'll play Quidditch with him, while I'll teach him all he needed to know for school. Then, the dreadful days when Harry will be at school… I'll most likely wondering how he's doing, if he was scared, or miss me and James. And when he finally has a girlfriend, I'm sure that he'll find the best girl, the perfect one, like she and James though of course that's not how they started."

She rubbed her eyes as she asked her old teacher, "That's something to hang onto right?"

Dumbledore smiled again, as he put his hand on her shoulder to offer her some comfort. "Yes," he said simply.

Lily gazed at her sleeping baby before she asked, "If… if something happens to me and James… could you keep an eye on him for us?"

Albus looked at the crib to Lily before he said, "Yes. I don't know what I can do… but I'll do my best to make sure he's safe."

"Lily?" James voice called from downstairs. Albus looked out the door before he said, "Let's go."

"Thank you, Albus," were her last words before she left the room. A second later, Albus realized she had not called him Professor. A sad smile reached his lips as he turned back to the crib to where Harry was. Even after hearing the prophecy himself, Albus found it strange that a child, not even 2 years old, might be the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord.

Voldemort sure seemed convinced that it's Harry that he's after, and had started looking for the poor boy as soon as he heard that there was a prediction that someone could be destined to defeat him. But then again, it might not be Harry… it still could be Neville Longbottom…

And yet…

Harry opened his eyes sleepily to look up at him for a moment. Their eyes locked together for that brief instant…

"You…" Dumbledore said softly to Harry as he looked at those emerald eyes, "Might be someone truly special. Someone who is destined for great things."

The child blinked at him before his eyes went to the invisibility cloak. Dumbledore went on, holding the cloak, "Don't worry, I promise that I'll give it back to you."

The boy smiled at him, as if he could understand what he said and he went back to sleep. Dumbledore left after that. He stopped to say goodbye to Lily, James, Sirius, and Peter Pettigrew who just showed up.

They will be all right, he told himself; they had to be.

_*Outside*_

If anyone was peeking through their shutters, spying on the lone man, they made no noise, for the silence hung over the whole village, like a great canopy, shielding the inhabitants. If anyone had been observing him, they would have seen him walk to the kissing gate that surrounded the cemetery. His deep purple robes swept along the ground after him, and his hair fell down his back, blowing softly in the wind.

Making his way under the arch that led to the graves, he walked amongst them, a living soul striding about the resting spirits of the dead. Leaves rustled beneath his feet, twigs snapped. Those were the only signs that someone was in the deserted graveyard.

He seemed to know where he was going, for he strode confidently past the newer graves, and slowed his pace only when he had almost reached the furthest corner of the lonely place. He drew to a halt at the end of a row of crumbling headstones and abruptly turned into it. Stopping at a grave somewhere in the middle, the man knelt down. He conjured up a bouquet of flowers and placed them on the headstone as he felt his eyes prickle with tears.

He did not try to fight it; he had been fighting it for too long. Instead, he let his tears flow. Tilting his body towards the neighboring grave, he gasped as more tears threatened to fall.

**Kendra Dumbledore **

**And her daughter Ariana **

**Where your treasure is, there will be your heart also.**

Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes and took great, heaving breaths. His sister… his only sister… And he might have been the one to bring about her death. He was the cause of her death. He cursed his teenage self. So ignorant, so self-obsessed. And for what? He had nothing to show for it. He had not been clever at all, despite what he may have thought at the time. Why had he not seen through to Gellert's true self? But he, Dumbledore himself, had been plotting to overthrow the Muggles, so was he to blame also?

A happy family… like the Potters.

If he only had the chance…

If he could only say one thing to his mother, father, and sister… they could only be 'I'm Sorry.'

**(Please! Please review!)**

**Preview: He suddenly finds out that Lily and James are dead. He makes plans for Harry to be moved to his aunt and uncle. He wonders what to do with the cloak.**


	3. A Halloween to Remember

**Chapter 3: A Halloween to Remember**

It was October 31, 1981.

And behind a huge oval desk, it's very surface crammed with parchments and important documents, an old man had his head buried in his hands and wept, his shoulders shaking with grief. The portraits of the former headmaster's and headmistresses were looking down on the distraught man in silence and pity, united in their sad regret that they had not been able to help ease his pain.

Dumbledore had been sitting at his desk, which was cluttered with battle plans, teachers' reports, and some odd shiny instruments with no apparent purpose when he received the news.

_*1 hour ago*_

_'I'm glad that the feast had gone well as usual,' _thought Albus Dumbledore as he remembered watching the students sitting at the tables before him. This was a time when he could just sit back and relax from the stress that had been dragging him down for the past several months. He hoped that two of his best students, Lily and James Potter, were settling down into their home as best they could.

He remembered glancing down the table at his new Potions master. Severus Snape's head was bowed low over his food and lately he had not been meeting anybody's eyes. It seemed like only yesterday that Severus had come to him with the news that Lily and James Potter had been singled out by Lord Voldemort as a target for death.

Most of the staff couldn't understand why Albus would employ someone who was once on Voldemort's side. But from what Severus had told him, Dumbledore knew there was a reason that he had left the Death Eaters to come to his former teacher. He had guessed that Severus had said and done things that he regretted. And the reason for his decision to join the dark side was one of the reasons why he hated James Potter so dearly. It was because of Lily Potter.

Dumbledore had often assumed that Severus had been driven to the Death Eaters out of jealousy. After all, the only friends that Snape seemed to have were all Death Eaters and many of the people from the light side refused to see Snape for what he was. Inside, buried under the weight of countless disappointment and empty promises, was a lost little boy who was desperate for someone to love him and see past the outward shell.

Lily had once seen past the disguise, but she fell in love with James Potter and that had most likely driven him to the point of no return. The only thing that could have brought him back was the same thing that drove him away.

Dumbledore's thoughts turned to his former students. What were they doing right now and were they safe? When would this nightmare end? When could everybody go back to the way things were before Lord Voldemort began ridiculous war?

(Before the night was over, however, Albus would regret his thoughts and remember the muggle saying, "Be careful what you wish for.")

He had just finished filling out a report when he heard it.

A spine-chilling song of mourning and grief filled the room, its heart-rending melody seeming to seep into the very stone walls of the castle, even sweeping out of the room and down the staircase, gripping the inhabitants of the magical portraits in its melancholy tones.

_*Present*_

Fawkes the Phoenix, whose song had just confirmed the destruction of Godric's Hollow, glided to rest in front of the Headmaster. He laid his red, scarlet, and gold head on Dumbledore's arm trying to give any comfort he could offer. They remained this way for a long while, and eventfully, the agony had been diminished slightly, and the heart breaking grief seemed to ease up a bit.

Inhaling unsteadily, the tear stricken face of Albus Dumbledore rose until his eyes were level with that of his glorious companion. Faded blue eyes, without its customary twinkle, met black, and a silent communication proceeded.

Visions were sent forth from the beautiful familiar, showing the destruction of what was once a charming home. The charred remains of a two story cottage, still alight with magical flames, was revealed, hideous and angry, nothing like the warm comfortable dwelling it had been only hours before. Residue of what was once protection and secrecy wards, lay scattered in the air, unseen to the human eyes.

And there it was.

The traces of a darker and heavier presence of a recently performed killing curse, its empty glowing haze signifying its use.

Fawkes opened his mind more, and Albus was able to pick up some sounds. He heard the cackling and popping of still burning embers, the sound of falling debris and… the unmistakable cries of a baby.

Rearing back in shock Albus' eyes narrowed in confusion before widening in understanding. Staring back into the eyes of his phoenix he asked to be shown the little baby. There was no mistake, young Harry was still alive, and there was definitely no mistaking the remains of a failed unforgiveable curse on him… a bleeding cut on his forehead.

He looked at the floor where Lily Potter's body lay… right in front of the crib as if she died protecting Harry.

It took him less than a second to understand what had happened.

"My God," he whispered hoarsely, quickly taking out a piece of parchment from his desk and grabbing a feathered quill.

Face set with determination and purpose he swiftly composed a letter, reading over it again before he rolled the parchment, tied it, and giving it to Fawkes.

_Hagrid, _

_The Potters home at Godric's Hollow has been destroyed. James and Lily are dead, but young Harry is still alive._

_I need you to go and retrieve him. Keep him with you for the next few hours until I have prepared Harry's new home. It is very important that Harry is in your care, regardless of who may try to stop you._

_Bring Harry to Vernon and Petunia Dursley of Number four Privet Drive. Fawkes will be sent to you when all is ready._

_Be safe my friend,_

_Albus_

"Fawkes, take this to Hagrid. Wait until he has read it, and departs to Godric's Hollow. Then return to me. Promptly, without delay my friend."

Trilling in understanding the beautiful bird took the parchment in his claws and disappeared in a burst of bright flames, leaving behind an even wearier master.

Exhaling, Dumbledore ran an aged hand over his face, feeling like he had aged ten years in a matter of seconds. Moving towards his fireplace, he reflected on what he had to do, and how he had to do it. Ignoring his still raw grief at the deaths of the night, he mentally composed what he had to say to Ministry of Magic, and to the Order. He then had to make sure that Privet Drive would be ready, before finally delivering the child to his aunt and uncle.

Dumbledore stumbled around his office and stared into the foe glass that stood in the corner of the room. No longer was the shadow of the man that once went by the name Tom Riddle in the glass. In fact, many foes had disappeared. He looked for the one man that should have appeared in the glass, but Sirius Black was nowhere to be seen. There was, however, an indistinct shape of someone that had never been before but they were unrecognizable. He felt for a chair and sat down miserably. What was he going to do? How was he going to break the news to Remus Lupin that two of his best friends were dead and the other was a traitor?

As he sat there, his hand touched something soft and fluid. He looked up to see that he had touched Jame's Invisibility Cloak. He felt as if his heart would break by the sight of it. He had planned to take the cloak back tomorrow…

It looks like he wasn't going to give the Cloak back to Harry as soon as he thought.

_*Later*_

It was almost two in the morning, and Hogwarts was illuminated only by the full moon. In the distance a pack of werewolves could be heard howling in unison, their voices providing an eerie setting to the nights events. Off Hogwarts, in the Wizarding town of Hogsmeade, time had been forgotten as news spread of the miraculous happenings of Halloween night. The Wizard floo network was busy, people trying to find out the truth in the rumors, it seemed too much to hope for.

All this seemed to escape the inhabitants of a hut off the grounds of the majestic school. A light burned brightly within, as the silhouette of its large owner could be seen slowly pacing from one side of the hut to the other. A black Motorcycle stood outside, next to the pumpkin patch.

Inside, Hagrid paced and hummed a gruff lullaby, occasionally moving his right hand in what would have been a rocking motion. Looking down at the precious bundle, the half-giant sniffed yet again, taking in the vulnerable looking thing, with a full mop of black hair as he slept uneasily. Little Harry fit in just one hand, and Hagrid couldn't understand why anyone would have wanted to harm such an innocent little thing.

Sniffing again, Hagrid wiped his face with the sleeve of his coat. Tears were running down his face, fat large drops which had escaped his attempt to halt them fell into his wild beard. Baby Harry winced in pain as one large drop fell onto his still bleeding scar, red and swollen, it stood out angrily on his pale forehead. Lifting up the edge of the baby blanket, Hagrid gently patted Harry's forehead.

The little child, sensing the care of someone other than his mother started to squirm and fuss again, whimpering for his mama in his anxious sleep, sucking gently on his bottom lip.

"Lily an' James dead," Hagrid said to himself as he sniffed yet again. "Poor Harry…"

He resumed his pacing and rocking, he took large ragged breaths, trying to restrain himself from sobbing aloud.

He had been waiting for Dumbledore's phoenix for almost two hours now, having arrived from the Potters former residence with Harry in hand after an hour's journey. He had been worried when he got there, apprehension which was replaced by horror when he saw the charred remains. He hadn't been able to stifle the cry that had escaped him, nor the moan of pity that he had felt when he saw young Sirius Black jumping off his motorcycle and scrambling over the smoking ruins to reach Harry in Hagrids arms.

He had felt like a heartless monster taking Harry from Sirius, and practically hated himself as he watched Sirius wrap his godson up in his baby blanket before placing a very soft kiss on his head. Sirius had then given his bike to Hagrid to bring baby Harry here, once more kissing his godson before he rode off.

Sighing heavily, Hagrid sat down in his chair and looked down at the small child in his arms. Even he knew that things weren't going to be easy for the child, there were still Death Eaters running around, and Harry was just a baby. And he had just lost both his parents.

_'Dumbledore will take care of it,' _he thought sadly, _'Great man Dumbledore, will figure something out.'_

_*Dumbledore*_

Stepping out of his fireplace, Dumbledore dusted himself off before getting back to work. His brow furrowed in thought as he walked across his office to sink heavily into a chair.

He had had a difficult time at the ministry. After years of constant threats and attacks from the Dark Lord, the ministry had been a little reluctant to believe that the threat was gone. He had shown them what Fawkes had shown him, they had gasped when they saw the Potter's home destroyed, and letting them see what he had seen with young Harry provoked an outcry of shock, and it was only then that they started to hope. Visiting Godrics Hollow and its destruction, fully convinced the doubting wizards.

Those that had known Lily and James Potter mourned on sight, others apparated away to share the glad tidings and miraculous news. The events of the night would soon descend into Wizarding legend, and would become noted in every single history book. Harry Potter: the first person to ever survive the Killing Curse. Harry Potter the boy who lived.

Albus had sent Emmeline Vance, an Auror who was also part of the Order of the Phoenix to retrieve Sirius, "Find him, and bring him to me."

He had then returned to the Ministry, where he had proceeded to keep the prediction concerning Harry. It was important that the Prophecy be kept within The Hall of Prophecy, just in case anything should happened to him, Albus Dumbledore.

If he had any reservations that the Ministry would object to keeping the matter confidential, he need not have.

"Lily and James Potter were a credit to parents everywhere," said Arthur Weasley.

"But there will be parents out there that will be flooding our offices with letters concerning young Mr. Potter's welfare. If having all this secrecy surrounding his whereabouts is vital to his safety and Health, then so be it. We will do whatever is needed of us," said young Kingsley Shacklebolt

"I am glad Albus that maybe the dark times have passed us by. Maybe the next generations will not live in the fear that gripped us for so long. But, I know that it would have been much worse had you not been here to help us. Should there ever be a time when we do not heed your warnings, the Ministry and the Wizarding world will suffer. Thank you… I think that these days may be the last of my reign," said the current Minster of Magic. "I want to see and experience the peace that we have all worked so hard for."

A full team of Unspeakables and Aurors (Including Alastor Moody) were sent to Little Whinging, Surrey, to erect protection and magical-detection wards, as per Albus instructions.

Looking back over the last few hours, Dumbledore quietly concurred that it could have been more difficult to handle had they been under a more incompetent minister. The Ministry's role was now over concerning young Harry, and he was now hoping that this plan was going to work. He didn't trust everyone in the Ministry and the sending of wizards to Privet Drive was more of a distraction than anything. But all his plans for Harry's safety and upbringing would be for nothing if he did not get the Ministry's agreement.

Pulling his golden pocket watch out of his robes he stared thoughtfully at it for a few minutes. Nodding his head, he pulled out a parchment and a quill to construct another letter, this time to Lily Potter's sister.

_To Vernon and Petunia Dursley of Number four Privet Drive_

_Upstairs second room on the left,_

_November 1, 1981_

_What you have in your care is a boy far more special than you may think. He was born on the 31 of July 1980 to his parents James and Lily Potter. Your nephew Harry James Potter._

_I am sorry to say that your sister and her husband have suffered a tragic accident. A dark wizard named Voldemort murdered Harry's parents on October 31 using the darkest magic known in the wizarding world. Thus, leaving Harry an orphan. Voldemort tried to kill Harry as well but Lily's protection and love saved his life, defeating this dark wizard among us. We can only guess why he tried to kill the Potters._

_Lily's love is protecting Harry which is why I feel it is safe to place Harry in the hands of his mother's sister. Harry is shielded from harm as long as he can call wherever his mother's blood lies 'home'. It will be my deepest gratitude if you take care of Harry and treat him as your own until he becomes of age._

_I ask of you to not turn Harry away because then the shielding charm will break and Harry will no longer be protected from the world that awaits him in the future. The fate of the Wizarding World lay on Harry's shoulders. My wishes are with you._

_Albus Dumbledore,_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

Once he had finished he placed a wrinkled hand on Fawkes head and stroked the silky feathers, knowing that he had to go and meet Hagrid soon.

This was definitely a Halloween that no one will ever forget.

**Reivew PLEASE!**


	4. Hope for the Best

**Chapter 4: Hope for the Best**

It was late by the time that Dumbledore had left Hogwarts and appeared on the corner of Privet Drive, appearing as suddenly and silently as he always did whenever he Apparated or Disapparated. Dumbledore may not have looked it, but he was fully aware that he had just arrived to a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome, but at the moment he didn't care.

He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for his Deluminator. But after a moment or two he realized that he was being watched. And sure enough, when he looked up, he saw a tabby cat sitting on a wall just in front of Number 4. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

He should've known that Minerva McGonagall would be here; demanding to know the truth of what was the cause of the end of the war.

He finally found his Put-Outer, flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop.

He clicked it again — the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were the eyes of Minerva in her cat form. Even if any Muggles were still up at this hour, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped his Deluminator back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward Number 4, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at her, but after a moment he spoke to her.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at her, and wasn't at all surprised to see that she had turned back into her human form. She looked exactly as she did the last time he saw her… a strict-looking woman who was wearing square glasses (which are the markings around her eyes when she transforms) with her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. But now she looked distinctly ruffled as if she hadn't moved at all for a long time.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day?" he said surprised. "When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Of course, he had been so busily with the after-effects of what had happened at Godric's Hollow that he hadn't had a chance to celebrate either. But he at least had a reason… trying to deal with what's been happening with the Ministry, helping to track down and round up Death Eaters, preparing the best possible protections for the now orphaned Harry, and the list could go on and on.

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news."

She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls… shooting stars… Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

Dumbledore fought hard not to laugh. Yes, Diggle would do something like that…

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something. He knew that she hoping that he tell her if what she had heard was true. But he couldn't bring himself to talk about it. When he didn't answer her, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore quietly. "We have much to be thankful for."

_'But even more to mourn for…'_ he added in his head. But he didn't dare repeat that to Minerva so instead he tried to lighten the mood by saying, "Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?" she asked in confusion.

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of," he answered as he popped another one into his mouth.

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for candy. Nonsense in Dumbledore's opinion… there was always time for candy.

"As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone —"

"My dear Professor," Dumbledore said in slight disappointment. He had thought that she wouldn't be afraid to say the name, at least not anymore. "Surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort."

Yes, it is absolutely ridiculous to be scared of a murder so much not to even use his name! Even though the real name of this murder is Tom Riddle.

Professor McGonagall flinched at the sound of the name, but Dumbledore, who went back to his candy pretended not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't," said McGonagall, both exasperated and admired at the same time. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

He smiled, glad to hear that she was able to say a name without flinching. "You flatter me. Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too — well —noble to use them."

Dumbledore felt his face turning red. "It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

She gave Dumbledore a piercing stare and he knew that whatever she heard "everyone" say, she was not going to believe it until he told her it was true. Dumbledore, didn't answer, hating where this conversation was going.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters."

Dumbledore tightened his grip on the box of candy.

"The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head, grief still fresh on his heart. Knowing that two of the brightest students he had ever known had now left this world. Knowing what this ridiculous war had cost them. A stupid war that never should have happened.

McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…"

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know… I know…" he said heavily, fighting tears that were threatening to fall.

McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke — and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly. Voldemort's greatest weakness… he was never able to understand that there was magic greater than he was… could ever imagine… Tom had cause his own downfall.

"It's — it's true?" faltered McGonagall, disbelief in her voice. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess." said Dumbledore, although he already had a pretty good idea just how Harry survived. But he couldn't let her know. "We may never know."

McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a watch that had belonged to his father, a watch that his mother gave it to him when he turned seventeen. When he saw what time it was, he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean – you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at Number 4 in horror. "Dumbledore — you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son — I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here?"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. He knew these people hated magic… he knew that they were never going to accept him as part of the family. But the home where his mother's blood lived was the safest place for him until he was ready to rejoin the Wizarding World.

"His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous-a legend-I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in the future-there will be books written about Harry-every child in the world will know his name!"

"Exactly." said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

Albus didn't want Harry to become arrogant and bigheaded; and if he stayed in the Wizarding World he knew that it would become very possible. No, he wanted him to grow up as any other child would; he wanted to try to give him a chance at a normal life, for him to learn to make his own choices.

But his priority was to do everything in his power to keep the child alive. If he failed…

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes — yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suspiciously as though she thought he might pull Harry out from one of his pockets.

"Hagrid's bringing him," he answered her. Although he thought that they would both be here by now.

"You think it —wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore. He didn't like the way that Minerva said that. She was never prejudice, and always valued Hagrid's opinions. So why was she asking something like this?

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to — what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them, with Hagrid at the control.

And Hagrid was carrying a bundle of blankets in one of his massive arms.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, relieved that they had both made it safely. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said Hagrid as he climbed carefully off the motorcycle trying to be as gentle as possible with the baby. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

Sirius Black? Why would the Potter's betrayer give his beloved motorbike away to get Harry here? But he pushed those thoughts away; there were more pressing matters at the moment.

"No problems, were there?" he asked, though he truthfully didn't expect anything to have happened.

"No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and McGonagall bent forward over to get a better look at the baby. Inside, just visible, was little Harry, fast asleep. And there, as Dumbledore had dreaded, under his jet-black hair on his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where —?" whispered McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."

**_"And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal…"_** rang the prophecy inside his head. Albus had always hated prophecies…

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?" McGonagall asked.

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground."

As he said this… a disturbing image of the day he got that scar (when he dueled Gellert Grindelwald for the Elder Wand) came back to him. He pushed that out of his mind as well. That is all in the past.

"Well — give him here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.

"Could I — could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it —Lily an' James dead — an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles —"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. Dumbledore held Harry to him very tightly, hating himself, repulsed that he was going to just leave him on the step. This little boy would only know a life of hardships. It wasn't fair. He didn't deserve this. No one did.

He took one last fleeting glance at McGonagall and Hagrid before he gently laid Harry on the doorstep. He took the letter, explaining everything, he had written just a few hours ago out of his cloak, and tucked it inside Harry's blankets. He watched for a moment as Harry closed his fingers around the piece of parchment. He snuggled deep into the soft blankets keeping him warm, smiling slightly, not knowing that his parents were dead and that starting tomorrow his life was going to become a 100 times more difficult.

Unable to stand there any longer, he then came back to the other two.

For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, McGonagall blinked furiously, (Dumbledore knew that she was angry with him, and he didn't blame her one bit)

He himself could only think about how difficult that the child's life was going to be. Harry was facing 10 dark and hard years before he finally comes to Hogwarts. And he had a bad feeling that this was nothing compared to what awaited the boy at school.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

Except for him. He had to deal with a flood of owls that was surely going to be waiting for him when he got back to his office. He was in for nothing but sleepless nights for the next few months.

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a muffled voice, "I best be giving Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."

That was another think that Dumbledore had to deal with. Sirius Black. He must've surly be on the run by now…

Hagrid wiped his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply as Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Deluminatior. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of Number 4.

He thought that he had it all thought out.

Harry would be safest here because of the blood bonds… he would grow up far away from all that fame until he was ready to take it… and yet why was he hesitating?

Why was he fighting the urge to go back and take Harry away from here?

For a moment, he nearly did. But he kept reminding himself that this was the best way to ensure that Harry would still be alive by the time that his school letter came.

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone. Hoping against hope that he won't come to regret his choice.


	5. As the Years Go By

**(I know that I'm rewriting this chapter. But I have my reasons. I'm sorry, but I also will need to go back and rewrite several of them. I hope you can all understand for it will be important later on in the story. Please enjoy this new old chapter.)**

**Chapter 5: As the Years Go By**

Godric's Hollow. The place where everything ended… and started. At least that's how Albus would always remember this place. It was this place where Dumbledore got his rude wakeup call and decided to do everything in his power to make up for his mistakes. Even though he knew that there was no way he could ever hope to atone for his foolishness.

He was here to remember the past. The goodness and innocence that once thrived here and should've continued to done so for years to come.

Like himself… little Harry Potter lost his family here and suddenly found himself alone. But he at least got to know his own parents before they were taken away from him. It saddened him greatly to think that the little boy won't even remember what his own mother and father looked like. He thought back to that Halloween night.

Everyone had celebrated the defeat of Lord Voldemort for weeks on end, Death Eaters up and down the country were captured and either free to go or sent to Azkaban such as the traitor Sirius Black. Now things seemed to be heading to a much brighter future.

Too bad that he knew better then that. This was just the beginning.

Little Whinging. That would be his next stop. Every year on Halloween, Albus would pay a quick visit the Potter's old home in Godric's Hollow to remember—both the good times and the bad before he would go to Privet Drive, Little Whinging just to see how the boy was going.

He stared long and hard at the remains of the Potter's cottage before he turned on his heel and disappeared.

_*Later*_

He wandered around a small Muggle school, waiting for the bell to ring. He had come here about once a year to see how the boy was faring. So far however, he was less than pleased. He was only able to get just a small glimpse of the boy, but never talk to him. He had to be careful not to get to let the boy see him or it could complicate things in the far future. But from what he could see from a distance was that the boy didn't seem like he was having the happy, normal childhood like he had hoped for.

The school bell began to ring. Albus hide behind a wall where he could see the front doors, but he couldn't be seen, and waited. A swarm of Muggle students came rushing out, talking and laughing—some of them in costumes, getting ready to go out trick-or-treating for the night. He leaned back and watched as boys and girls of all ages and sizes ran right pass him and out onto the streets to where their parents or the school bus was waiting.

He waited until the flood turned into a light trickle and most had already left. Albus frowned. He was hoping that he could get some glimpse of Harry, but then realized that he only had a vague idea of what the boy looked like. Did Harry already leave with his friends?

But before he could wonder what to do next, a large gang of kids came walking out. The one in front looked like… there was no other word for it… like a bully.

He was big, and very fat—he looked more like a pig with blonde hair than anything else. Albus hated thinking about kids that way, but it was undeniably true. He was with a large group of friends that all looked like a thugs. The way they walked and acted… like they thought that they owned the school. Kids shouldn't be going around acting like that. Once they neared the wall, he could hear some of the things they said.

"So, what are you all going as?" asked a kid with a pointed face.

"Who cares?" said the kid that looked like a pig. "Just as long as I get plenty of loot."

"Your parents taking you?" asked another kid that looked like a troll. "I told mine that I don't need them to baby me anymore."

"Nah," their leader said. "I told them I could handle it myself. They're leaving my crybaby cousin with that batty old Figg lady tonight while they go out."

He looked over at a group of little boys where one was holding a large candy bar. The leader of the gang smirked as he walked over to the boy, and snatched the piece of candy right out of his hands. His victim, who only reached up to his waist, gasped and ran off with his friends as though afraid that they would get beat up if they did anything else.

Albus frowned. But he was disturbed about what these children were talking about. Mrs. Figg? He knew that Petunia Dursley had a son… was this him? How could any mother actually allow their child to act like this?

He watched them until they turned the corner up ahead and were out of his sight. Albus sighed. He must've just missed Harry. He came out of his hiding place… only to walk into a very small figure by accident.

The child that he almost ran down was so small, that he didn't even notice him. But he held out his hand just in time to prevent the youngster from being knocked to the ground.

"Sorry about that," said the little boy. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"No, it was my fault," Albus said politely… and finally took in the boy's appearance. He stared at him. It looked like a mini-James. The same pale and thin face, messy black hair, even the glasses were just like James used to be. But the eyes… they were completely different.

Bright green—Lily's eyes.

There was only one person that it could possibly be.

Albus stared down at little Harry Potter.

And he was appalled at Harry's condition. He practically screamed out, neglected and abused. He was smaller and skinnier than normal children his age should be. He was in clothes that looked like they belonged to people at least three times his size, and worst of all—he had the expression of a whipped puppy.

That look nearly broke his heart.

He had seen that expression many times before—but it was always on the same person—his sister Ariana.

Ever since the day that Ariana was attacked by those Muggle boys to the day she died, she had that same look of hurt, fear, and betrayal in her eyes. Seeing that look after nearly a century… he suddenly felt like that same little boy that failed to protect his siblings the day that they needed him most.

But Harry didn't notice because he was barely looking at him, too busy looking around him as if he expected someone to suddenly jump out and attack him.

"Are you alright?" Albus asked his voice gentle.

Harry still didn't look up at him, but answered. "Yes, sir," he said politely. He was acting the part of a mouse—a mouse trying hard not to be caught by a cat. "I was just watching out for—I mean I was just waiting until everyone else left."

"Why would you wait until everyone else left?" Albus asked concerned.

"So that they won't come after me," he said as though he doubted that any adult would believe him. "Anyway I have to go. Sorry again!"

He turned and slowly walked off, but he kept looking his shoulder, as if expecting some kind of monster to sneak up on him.

Albus stared after him for some time before he finally decided to leave. He had gone back to his school to enjoy the Halloween feast… but he didn't enjoy it as much as he had hoped. His thoughts were turned to that scared little boy that he had seen today.

The poor child mumbled things about watching out for everyone else as if he was still living in the middle of a war; he was so nervous and jumpy like he thought that there were ghosts around every corner.

He knew that he was right that Harry would be safe from Voldemort as long as he was near his mother's blood. He was right when he knew that Harry would be put through so much neglect and bullying during his time here.

But the look on his face… looking so much like his dead sister… he was seriously beginning to question leaving him here.

The only source of comfort he had was when he went to bed that night, he gazed out his window, and he whispered into the night sky, "Hold on, Harry. Just a few more years and you'll be safe from that place."


	6. Only Time Will Tell

**Chapter 6: Only Time Will Tell**

There was a knock on the door, and Albus Dumbledore smiled to himself as he looked up from a Muggle magazine about knitting patterns. He didn't need to be a Seer to know that it was Minerva, coming to discuss the first year students attending Hogwarts this year no doubt.

"Enter," he said pleasantly, and he was not disappointed in the least to see that it was Minerva McGonagall who opened the door, looking quite as strict and professional as ever. She strode across the office with a roll of parchment in her hands.

"Here is a list of the new students for this year, Albus," she said briskly, brandishing the list as she spoke.

"Ah, yes, I do believe I was expecting that list right about now," Albus answered, laying down his magazine. "Excellent. Do sit down, Minerva. I could draw you up a chair—?"

"No need," she answered, as she conjured up er own. She sat down after she handed him the neatly written list.

"Thank you," he said, and then gestured to the candy dish on his desk. "Would you like a lemon drop?"

"Headmaster, for the hundredth time…" she started, but Dumbledore merely chuckled.

"Very well, but perhaps you ought to consider delving into the world of sweets and finding a favorite for yourself sometime."

Minerva rolled her eyes, but sat patiently without saying a word.

At last, Dumbledore finished reading through the list, and after a moment looked back up at her. "Well, everything seems to be in order. And I expected no less from you Minerva. You will see that the owls are sent out later today?"

She nodded, "Of course, Headmaster."

He looked down the list again. "Another Weasley this year," he observed with a smile.

Minerva's mouth thinned noticeably. "Yes, and I hope, for Argus' sake, that this one does have a tendency for rule breaking as the twins have."

Albus resisted the urge to laugh at the thought of all that Fred and George Weasley had got up to in the past two years. Those two could've easily giving James Potter and Sirius Black a run for their money.

Speaking of Potter…

He handed back the list and asked, "Was there anything else you wanted to say while we're here?"

She nodded again, this time even more briskly, and tapped a name on the list. "We really ought to discuss this, Albus."

"Oh, I see. You have a problem with the boy already?"

"It's not that!" she answered sharply, and Albus noticed with some amusement that her nostrils flared slightly. "It's just that—well—you can't just leave it at that, Albus! He'll be famous here, and he doesn't even know it yet does he? You said so yourself nearly ten years ago that it would be enough to turn any boy's head. How do you know that it not turn his head now?"

"Minerva, he may only be eleven, but he will be ready to face such a situation now than he would have been if I had some Wizarding family take him in. I am prepared to admit that his head may yet be turned by the fact that everybody in our world knows his name. However, as neither of us can see the future, we must wait until the boy arrives before passing judgment."

"But Albus—I sure that you must've read the paper this morning!"

The corners of Albus' mouth twitched again. "Yes, I enjoyed the article that Rita Skeeter wrote. On how my age is starting to effect the way I think."

"Albus!"

He sighed, and reached up to stroke the handsome phoenix who had fluttered over onto his knee. "I did read the story on the front page as well."

"And?" Minerva's eyebrows edged closer together as she looked at him.

"And I think that it would be best if young Harry never see it. Whatever happen to him here is none of the wizarding community's business. I have also had a word with Cornelius about discouraging any presence of the press here for the next few years."

The transfiguration professor's blinked in surprise. "The press has never had much presence at Hogwarts, Albus."

Albus looked over his spectacles at her. "Given the article this morning, you surely realize that they have a sudden increase of interest in Hogwarts this year. Or at least, in one of its newest students. But I suspect it will pass within a fortnight."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Minerva, I have a bad feeling that something terrible is about to happen this year and we have to be ready for anything." He smiled grimly, and could have sworn that the thin line of Minerva's mouth started to tremble.

But at the next moment she rolled up the list and said, "Well, I shall see that the owls are sent out. I have learnt to never doubt your intentions, but I pray that you are wrong this time. And also, Hagrid volunteered to take care of delivering the letter to Harry Potter." Minerva looked as though she questioned the judgment of this.

It didn't take much imagination for Albus to envision the half-giant gamekeeper begging to be allowed the honor of delivering Harry Potter his school letter and taking him to Diagon Alley. Hagrid had, after all, been a great friend to Harry's parents, both during James and Lily's Hogwarts years and after. Albus cleared his throat. "Well, I'm sure that won't be too much trouble to arrange. I'd better warn him that there might be some trouble getting to Harry, though. And I know that Mr. and Mrs. Dursley will not take kindly to his presence."

Minerva nodded, got up, and started towards the door, before hesitating and turning back. "I assume," she said in a restrained voice, "That you have had trouble finding another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this term?"

Albus nodded wearily. "I cannot lie that this is getting to be very troublesome. We haven't been able to keep a teacher for that post in years. And after the particular bad accident to the last professor…"

"How is he by the way?" Minerva interrupted.

"Oh, I'm afraid that he'll be in St. Mungo's for quite some time. He still thinks that he's a rooster."

He sighed as he opened his magazine again.

"But you have found someone?"

"Yes, out of the two applicants, I thought Quirenius Quirrell would be the most suitable. After he finishing some affairs, he should arrive here a week before the start of term."

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "Do I happen to know the other applicant?"

The headmaster sighed again. "You might."

"Severus applied again, didn't he?" Minerva asked in an exasperated voice.

"When hasn't he? Now, if you please excuse me, I'm expecting a call from Cornelius any moment. He had something else to discuss about young Harry."

"Fudge again? Honestly, he was always hopeless in school. How he became minster I'll never know." Minerva bowed her head, and then showed herself out.

Albus got up and walked over to look out at the grounds through the sunlit windows behind his desk. He ran a hand over his face for a moment, trying to think. There were so many complications with the idea of Harry Potter attending Hogwarts that he was having trouble keeping up. He had barely managed to talk Cornelius out of personally introducing himself to the boy and taking him school shopping. No, it would be better that Hagrid do it. If Harry was anything like his parents, then the two were sure to get on quickly.

But more worrying at the moment were the rumors that Kingsley Shacklebolt had brought back from his trip to Albania. It appeared that there was some sort of dark magic in one of the larger forests that was causing him some worry. The ministry had dismissed it immediately, of course, after a group of Aurors that personally went to go and check it out to find no traces of Dark magic.

Albus was having second thoughts. He couldn't be sure that Voldemort had hidden himself in Albania, but he had his suspicions. He had always suspected that Tom had not died off the night he underestimated little Harry Potter. No, he knew that Tom Riddle was still alive… too weak to carry on, but still a threat nonetheless. He knew that he would return one day.

Fawkes sang a few notes for him, perhaps scolding him for worrying, and flapped onto his shoulder, so that he could be stroked again.

Albus sighed, stroking the bird's back absent-mindedly, still staring out of the window. Well, the wizarding world had enjoyed 10 years from dark magic and wizards, he supposed. Ever since that devastating Halloween, there had been the nasty clean-up work for about a year, but afterwards, the everyone had functioned for quite some time without so much as a hiccup as far as dark magic was concerned.

There so many people who believed that this peace would last forever…

Peace…

Peace is a dangerous thing. It is addictive. We crave it and refuse to see the lack of it when troubles arise. Preferring to look away. Ignoring the problem rather than confronting it. Which was sure to cause problems in the near future.

While he couldn't see the future, and was absolutely certain that he harbored no gift for Divination, Albus couldn't help feeling a vague worry when he thought about the coming year. Harry Potter coming back to the wizarding world at last…

It was very exciting, but Albus knew from long experience that great good and great evil went hand in hand. Good and evil exist in everybody; that is the way of human nature. It makes him wonder where the good that was in Riddle had gone and why things had to turn out this way.

Fawkes gave a more insistent note, and Albus returned to his desk, only glancing at the cover page of his newspaper before turning back to the knitting patterns.

When Albus Dumbledore looked up from his magazine again, it was to see a head in the fireplace. However, it was not the Minister of Magic as he had expected. Albus immediately got up from his ornate desk chair to crouch down by the hearth, smiling at the sight of his old friend.

"Good evening, Nicholas. What a lovely surprise, I can't even remember the last time we talked face to face."

"'ello, Albus. Thought any more about getting that beard cut?" The face of the young man in the fire grinned cheekily up at him. "Come on, mate. That whole _'beard fashion'_ is almost as old as I am. Just shave it all off."

"I have indeed thought about it, but you know very well that it always grows back so quickly—what's the point? But have you thought any more about perhaps allowing yourself to gain some wrinkles?"

The head in the fire tipped slightly to one side, as though to shrug, "Perenelle likes me young and fit. And what can I say? I rather like her better young, too. No, we're both still very happy with the whole situation, as hard as you might find that to believe."

Dumbledore made a vague noise, and the head in the fire raised its eyebrows.

"You know, the offer still stands, Albus. After all, I remember you saying once that you would like to be young again."

"I prefer to let nature take its course, Nicholas. Although, I have to admit that there are plenty of days that I wish to be just a few years younger."

The head gave what might have been another shrug. "Knew you'd say that. But you know, if you ever change your mind…"

"No thank you," Dumbledore finished. "As I told you before, I still don't see the appeal of immortality. Don't you ever get tired of the cares of the world?"

"Yeah, well, we ignore them for the most part. We try to keep ourselves busy," The face grinned up at him again, "We've been thinking about taking Muggle sky-diving classes. But anyway, on a related subject, I was calling for something else."

"Something else to do with a particular stone hidden in a certain Gringotts vault?"

"Oh, good. You already know. Now, look, I know you don't set much store by rumors, but—"

"It depends upon the rumor, Nicholas."

"Right. Well, it's been a few short years since we had anything really nasty to deal with in the way of Dark magic, hasn't it? I can't explain it… but I have a bad feeling that someone is trying to steal the stone."

Albus smiled. It was always this way with Nicholas. He never beats around the bush—he preferred to get to the point. "You think someone's after your stone, do you? If you'll forgive me for saying so, you are rather paranoid about that little rock, Nicholas."

Nicholas's voice was suddenly less carefree. "Look, Dumbledore, it's all very well for you to say nature should take its course, but given my age I'll probably drop down dead the minute I stop taking the Elixir. So yes, call me paranoid."

"Naturally, Nicholas, naturally. But what evidence do you have that someone is after it?"

"Someone offered to buy it from me the other day."

"Yes, Nicholas, I believe there are a great many people who would offer to buy it if they knew you possessed it," Albus said, trying not to sound impatient.

"Yeah, but you weren't there. I know a hidden threat when I hear one."

Albus frowned at this. "Who was it exactly that offered to buy it?"

"That's the problem. I never saw his face. He kept his hood well up, even though I invited him into the house, and we sat down to talk and everything."

"How rude," Albus said, trying not to smile at the outrage in his friend's voice.

"Yeah, I thought so," Nicholas said seriously. "Anyway, he grew very agitated when I refused. And he wouldn't say anything when I asked where he got the information that I had it. Then, when he found out why I take the Elixir, he tried to get me to believe he would keep me supplied with it for the rest of eternity. As if I would believe something like that."

"You know, Nicholas, sometimes I wonder at how quickly you jump to conclusions. You almost sound like some of my students."

"You're getting off topic, Dumbledore."

"And you're taking a long time in getting to the point, Flamel."

The head in the fire nodded. "Fair enough. Albus, I want to ask you something. This is my favor of a lifetime… will you to keep the stone at Hogwarts this year? Just for safekeeping. I always did say your school is the safest place to keep anything on earth."

Albus hesitated for a moment. "I don't know, Nicholas…" he said slowly. "If your suspicions are indeed correct, and there is someone after the stone, then they will be sure to come here. And I'm afraid I cannot risk the safety of my students."

"I know, Albus. I don't mean to put anyone in danger because of me, but imagine what would happen if the stone fell into the wrong hands? I would protect it myself if I could, but the most I can do is leave it at Gringotts, and I just have a bad feeling about that right now."

Albus considered this for a long moment. Then he nodded gravely. "Very well, Nicholas. I will keep the stone here for a while, but not permanently. You have a year, and then you will have to find something else to do with it."

Nicholas broke into a large grin. "Excellent. I'll send you an owl with a letter to give to the Gringotts goblins. I'll make sure they know you're to get it."

"I'll send Hagrid with a note to get it. He'll be taking care of another errand at the moment, and it will be easiest to do both things at once."

"Right. Well, I'll be in touch, Albus. Thanks again." And with those parting words, the head of Nicholas Flamel disappeared from Dumbledore's office fire.

Albus had hardly sat back down in his chair when a second head appeared in the fire, clearing its throat to get Dumbledore's attention.

"Ah, good morning, Cornelius," Dumbledore replied, beginning to think that he wasn't going to be able to finish his magazine until next week, crouching down by the grate once more. "How are you this fine day?"

"Not bad, not bad at all Dumbledore," Fudge answered. "And—er—yourself?"

"Never better. I was just thinking it would be an excellent day to take a walk around the lake. But I believe you had some further questions for me, Cornelius?"

"Yes. Well—" The rather haughty man seemed to hesitate. "It's just—are you quite certain that it wouldn't be best if I were to—"

"Cornelius, I do not think it would be the best idea for you to introduce yourself to Harry Potter. I'm sure you will eventually be given the opportunity to meet him, but I would prefer to have one of my staff show him around Diagon Alley."

"Oh, very well," Fudge said irritably. Albus could tell he was quite put out, and had rather hoped that he would have change his mind through this visit.

"About that story in the papers, Cornelius," Albus began in an offhand voice.

The head in the fire rolled its eyes. "Not you as well, Dumbledore. I've already had to tell about fifteen different people that I had nothing to do with it. I had no idea they were even thinking of putting out an article."

He frowned, "I may have to keep a closer watch on the Prophet in the future, if this mess is anything to go by," he mused. "I've got a major debate on my hands, you know that, Dumbledore? There are people who are convinced that he's a hero and should have a proper hero's welcome back into the wizarding world, and then there are those few people who think he's not significant at all, because it all happened such a long time ago."

"Only time will tell, Cornelius," Albus said gravely. "In the meantime, I believe that we should try to move on and deal with what we must."

Fudge sighed, "Yes, well, I can only hope that the best rumors prove true."

"I can assure you I'll keep a close eye on him, Cornelius."

"Yes, and I'd appreciate it if you kept me informed, Dumbledore. Well, about that latest member on the Wizengamot…"

The interview did not last longer than ten minutes, and then Dumbledore bid the Minister farewell and went back to his magazine at last. After finally finishing it, he gazed out of the window again. Just one more month, and the boy would be here. Albus hoped Cornelius's—and everyone else's—optimism proved to be on target. Retrieving his pensieve, he listened once again to the prophecy that had led to his doubts of Voldemort's death. He said so before that he was no Seer. He had no idea what the future held.

But he knew that Lord Voldemort would return one day. He could only hope that it won't be for a long, long time. Only time would tell.

**(Please review)**


	7. Start of a New Year

**Chapter 7: Start of a New Year**

"Enter," Dumbledore called cheerfully as he was getting ready to head downstairs. He was not surprised in the least to see that it was Minerva McGonagall who came in.

"Headmaster, I wanted to let you know that the rest of the teachers have all just arrived this morning before breakfast, so everyone's here and settled in. I told them to be in the staff room so we can discuss anything before the start of term," she announced, not the least bit hesitant about getting to the point.

"Yes, excellent," Albus mused as finished a letter to Ollivander. The old wandmaker had written to him that Harry Potter had indeed bought the other phoenix wand… all the more proof that Harry and Voldemort were destined to meet up again someday. But he pushed those thoughts out of his head for the moment.

"Yes, I imagine that will have to be taken care of rather immediately. Shall we go down, then?" He stood, gave Fawkes a passing stroke, to which the phoenix sang a few notes happily, and walked side-by-side with Minerva.

All the other members of his staff were waiting for them, and after warm greetings (from most of them anyway) all around, they fell respectfully silent, waiting for him to speak. Albus sat down in his chair at the end of the table and cleared his throat. "Yes, welcome back. Before we address any questions that you may have, however, I would like to make an announcement."

They all looked at him expectantly.

"As I'm sure that many of you know my friend, Nicholas Flamel, with whom I have done some work with art of alchemy. You may also know that he possesses what may be the only Sorcerer's Stone ever created. He has asked me to keep the stone safe for him this year, and I agreed. The Stone will reside here at Hogwarts for one year and then it will be moved somewhere else—unless of course unforeseen circumstances arise."

A few people gasped, some began talking about this to each other, and others simply looked amazed. Dumbledore ignored them and went on, "I have arranged to have the Stone hidden in a newly added chamber that is located beneath the castle and only accessible through a trap-door installed in the third floor corridor. Hagrid here," Albus gave a nod and a smile to the half-giant taking up an entire corner of the staff room, "has kindly agreed to lend us the services of one of his… ah… creatures to guard the door."

Albus paused, as there were several mutterings and a few groans at this announcement.

"And which creature, pray tell," Severus said slowly, "would that be?"

Hagrid swelled proudly, "That'd be Fluffy, tha' would. Don't worry. I'm sur' he's up to the task."

"Fluffy?" Minerva asked, and Albus detected a hint of misgiving in her voice. "What kind of creature _is_ Fluffy, exactly, Hagrid?"

"He's a dog," Hagrid said excitedly. "A bit like Fang, only about 20 feet high"—he gestured with his hand, and Quirenius looked as though he might faint—"an'… well, he's got three heads. He's got the sweetest disposition though once you get to know him."

"W-w-well," Quirenius stammered at this news. "This d-dog sounds l-l-like… it h-has th-three h-heads! A-a-and all with t-teeth, no d-d-doubt of c-course, so th-ther-there's no need t-to wo-worry," he gave a nervous little laugh. "It s-s-sounds t-to me th-this stone will be v-very well p-p-protected."

"We'll have to warn the students to stay away from that corridor," Filius voiced. "And as for some extra precautions, we should add a few locking charms. I know the students generally keep away from doors that are locked, but its best to be safe than sorry."

"Except those Weasleys brats," Argus Filch said with a furious look. "Give them a locked door, and they'll be clamoring to see what's behind it. And I hear that there's going to be another one arriving this year! If he's anything like his brothers…"

"Now, be reasonable, Argus," Madam Promfry interrupted. "While Fred and George may be trouble-makers, Percy is hardly one to pry into locked doors. He's a prefect this year, and perhaps with the extra authority he can keep his younger brothers in line."

Argus looked as though he very much doubted this.

"I will make it plain during the announcements at the welcoming feast that the corridor is dangerous and to be avoided," Albus said to stem further arguments.

"Is the dog all that's guarding the stone, Albus?" Pomona asked, looking slightly worried.

"No, indeed," Albus answered, "And it is this point that I wished to discuss with you. I have provided the stone with additional protection, but I am worried that it might not be enough. There are several antechambers leading to the location of the stone that I feel would be perfect for additional enchantments, obstacles, or guards. I would like to know what each of you thinks should be guarding the stone, and if you would be willing to help. Quirenius? Would you care to lend your expertise in your field?"

The stuttering professor started at being addressed. "W-well, I would s-s-suggest s-some sort of g-g-g-guard. P-perhaps a d-dark creature es-s-specially d-difficult to p-p-pass?" he stuttered, looking around as if he was scared that he would be jinxed for suggesting it.

Albus frowned at this idea. "I must admit I'm rather reluctant at the idea of having a dark creature inside Hogwarts."

Severus raised an eyebrow scathingly, "If that's the case, exactly what do you call—what was its name?—Fluffy?"

"Fluffy ain' no dark creature!" Hagrid protested, "He's—'e's jus' misunderstood that's all!"

Albus cleared his throat again to regain his small audience's attention. "What kind of creature would you suggest on top of Fluffy, Quirenius?"

"T-t-trolls have always b-been s-s-successful guards," he said carefully.

"Trolls?" Minerva asked skeptically. "Really, I could transfigure something more intelligent than that. There's a reason why 'T' is the lowest failing grade."

"There really ought to be something that requires more than brute strength to get past," Severus said quietly.

"Yes, I agree," Albus said, pleased that the Potions professor had touched on such a subject. "There ought to be tests to prove strength, but also—"

"Intelligence," squeaked Flitwick. "Wisdom!"

"Cunning," Snape added smoothly. "Logic, perhaps."

"Let us not put aside all value of bravery," Minerva put in sharply.

"Loyalty," Pomona put in. "I mean no one that's not loyal to the school and to its headmaster,"she gave a nod to Albus, who blushed and gave her a slight nod, "should be able to get through to this stone."

"Yes, they must all be accounted for in anyone wishing to get to the stone," Albus agreed. "May I therefore have other suggestions as to what should be in place to protect the stone?"

"I have some extra buds of Devil's Snare at the moment," Pomona volunteered. "Perhaps you could place them under the trapdoor? Imagine it… they drop through the trapdoor only to land on top of a killer plant!"

"Thank you, Pomona, I'm sure that would be excellent."

"I believe I can find some more complicated locking charms than _Alohomora_," Filius suggested. "Perhaps I can enchant some keys."

"You could make it even more difficult by making them fly and having broomsticks to—" began Madam Hooch.

"Is your mind always so irrevocably connected to Quidditch, Rolanda?" Severus asked dryly.

"No, I like that idea. I'm very interested to hear about your ideas, Madam Hooch," Filius countered.

"Are there other enchantments any of you would be willing to contribute?" Albus asked to the room at large. He noticed that Argus flinched slightly at the word enchantments.

"You know I've never been very good at that sort of thing, Dumbledore," the professor Sinistra said with a sigh. "I'll support anything you care to protect within these walls, but I can't help you defend it. I'm no great caster of spells."

"Nor am I," put in Irma Pince, "but I would be happy to do any research you require."

"Thank you, Irma," Albus acknowledged.

"I'm sure I could put together a puzzle and brew a few potions as a test for logic and cunning," Severus offered.

Albus nodded, and cleared his throat again. "I am glad to have so many ideas. Minerva, could I ask you to organize the planning of this project? I wish to have it finished by the time the students arrive in a few days time. There are five chambers leading to the one in which I have hidden the Stone. I think that one test per chamber should be enough. Now, are there any questions about the coming year before we end this meeting? Are there any other concerns we need to address?"

"Is it true that Harry Potter will be attending this year?" Filius' squeak of excitement provoked several murmured comments, and numerous mentions of his parents, Lily and James Potter.

"I knew it," Sibyll spoke up in her most mystical voice. "I have foreseen his coming, a coming that will change the very nature of Hogwarts!" no one paid her any attention, and Albus was certain that he heard Minerva gave a snort of annoyance.

"Yes," Albus answered simply, "It is true." He did not miss the roll of Severus' eyes, and knew the potions master was not the slightest bit pleased about the boy finally arriving at school.

"Are there to be any special measures regarding the boy?" Pomona asked, somewhat suspiciously; Pomona was of the opinion that all students should be treated exactly alike; whether they were famous or not.

"I have not anticipated the need for any, but I will most certainly inform you if I should change my mind," Albus promised. "Are there any other concerns that do not involve Harry Potter?"

"Peeves, Professor," Argus spoke up. "Is that vile poltergeist to still be allowed to wreak havoc on this castle? I keep telling you every year that we should be rid of the damn…" he demanded.

Albus sighed as he interrupted, "And as I say every year, Argus, there is a place and a use for everything that is in this castle, and that includes Peeves."

"Getting off topic, I should like to restrict the loaning of library books to two weeks instead of three this year, Albus," Irma declared. "When I finally get them back they are in horrible shape. I swear that the students are only borrowing them to practice their charms on!"

"If that is your wish, Irma," Albus said. "Poppy? You have sufficient supplies for this term?"

"Yes, headmaster," Poppy answered with a bob of her head. "Though I do have need of a few plants, I am sure that Pomona can readily supply."

Albus nodded as Pomona expressed her willingness. "Severus? You have the potion ingredients for the term, or shall I write to the apothecary?"

"I have everything I need, headmaster."

"Excellent. Any other concerns?"

"The punishments, professor," Argus spoke again in a strangled sort of voice as if hoping that he would at least get one thing that he wanted. "Are you quite sure that whipping would be considered too cruel a—"

"Yes, Argus," Dumbledore said forcefully. "There will be detentions, the same as last year. That is the extent of necessary discipline for the students."

"Oh, please… just for the Weasley twins… if they cause me any trouble this year, can't I at least be allowed to hang those two by their thumps in the dungeons?"

Albus raised his eyebrows at him, "I think that you already know the answer to that, Argus. The detentions are not up to you to decide."

Argus mumbled something incoherent about what he would do if he did have any say what the punishments would be, but gave in.

"If that is everything, the meeting is over," Albus announced. "I have faith in your capabilities and believe this term shall be one of the most memorable years that Hogwarts had ever seen."

"You say that every year, Albus," Minerva reminded him.

"Yes, but the years just keep improving," he responded with a smile.

_*One week later*_

A week later, Albus was pleased to hear the faint sounds of students entering the castle. The sun set quite magnificently that summer evening, and Albus had just gotten the old tattered sorting hat from its shelf when there came a knock on his office door. "Enter," he called as cheerfully as ever, and Minerva McGonagall burst into the room, looking flustered.

"Albus, we still need the sorting hat, and the students are waiting in the room off the Entrance Hall—"

" Minerva, relax. This isn't like you. Besides, it's tradition to make the first years even more nervous by making them wait, am I right?"

Minerva glared at him, but nodded.

"Is there anything upsetting you?" Albus asked warmly.

"Peeves," the Transfiguration professor responded shortly. "He's been terrorizing the house elves again, not to mention releasing a pack of mice all over the entrance hall. Filius only barely managed to take care of it in time. And not only that, he tried to set the house tables on fire with some torches. Honestly, Albus, why you insist that wretched poltergeist stay in the castle…"

"Peeves has his uses," Albus said quietly, remembering all the times the poltergeist had lightened up the atmosphere of the castle when it was otherwise gloomy with the quiet of exams or lack of students. "Are you quite sure that is all that's upsetting you, Minerva?"

"No. It's—there's not—I have a bad feeling that we have someone on the inside trying to get the stone," she burst out.

"Minerva," Albus began.

"But Dumbledore, did you not hear what happened? Someone broke into Gringotts and tried to rob the vault! If Hagrid did not recover the stone when he did…"

Dumbeldore put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Yes, I know. And we can count our lucky stars that we were able to retrieve it when we did. I hate to imagine what could've happened if the stone fell into the wrong hands…"

"Yes, yes, but how do we know that the same person who tried to steal it before won't come here?" Minerva demanded. "I have no doubts that they won't be able to get to the stone, but what if they go after the students? We cannot be certain that the students won't be targeted in a desperate attempt to go to retrieve the stone."

Dumbledore put a soothing hand on her shoulder and led her out of his office, the sorting hat in his hand, and said, "Minerva… I don't know what will happen this year; but I promise you that I will do everything in my power to protect the students. Now… let us go down and enjoy the welcoming feast!"

He left her in the Entrance Hall and made his way to the Great Hall, where the tables were already scenes of happy reunions of students that had been away all summer. He hummed to himself as he strode the length of the hall to the high table, waving at a few of the students as he passed. He then passed the sorting hat to one of the teachers before he greeted his fellow professors at the table, with a nod to Quirenius (who seemed to be trembling), and sat down in his seat at the center. A few minutes later, Minerva was leading in the new students.

Ah, there he was. Most definitely his father's son, if looks were anything to judge by. But his eyes were without a doubt Lily's. Albus noted with some amusement that he was standing near a redheaded boy that had to be the newest Weasley. He stifled a chuckle as the redhead turned around to glare at a bushy-haired girl behind him, who had made a comment about the enchanted ceiling.

Everything was in place. Ten years ago, when he left little Harry Potter on the doorstep of his relatives' house, he told himself that he was making the right decision; that the protection of his mother's blood, was the best course of action. If Harry was to be protected from the Death Eaters that were then still at large, and from Voldemort, then he needed the best possible protection that he could offer to keep him out of harm's reach.

And all of these were, and still are, to some extent, convincing arguments. But the fact remains that when he saw Harry Potter again in the flesh, tonight at the sorting, he did not expect the weight of sorrow that he perceived about him, not to mention his physical stature: small, pale and underfed

It should not have come as a surprise to see Harry's condition. He have been looking in on him from time to time, and he have seen how mistreated the boy was by the Dursleys, suffering from his aunt's disdain for magic, his uncle's fear of anything different, and his cousin's spoiled, violent attitude. More than once he have been sorely tempted to intervene on his behalf, but only once did he do anything about it.

Once, he had sent a Howler to his aunt when she leaving him hungry and unwatched for days on end. Even that very nearly upset the delicate balance of the magic that he set in place around young Harry, after that he always reminding myself that the plan for keeping Harry safe was the upmost priority, or all be lost.

And now Harry was finally in his care, a first-year student at Hogwarts, and hopefully, he can begin to undo some of the damage inflicted upon him. He couldn't pretend that he would be able to heal all of his scars, and by this he meant his emotional scars, but promised that he would do everything he could.

Would that he could explain to the boy his reasons for leaving him at that terrible house. He knew that he deserved to understand why things had to happen the way that they have done, and someday he may be able to do so. He feared that Harry's greatest trials are only just beginning, though he couldn't imagine what they could be, but he will need every last bit of knowledge and wisdom that he could give him.

But he is too young to know these things yet, and Dumbledore decided that he would leave him with some measure of happiness for now, at the discovery of who he was, his powers, and the world to which he belongs. He began looking very closely at Harry, trying to figure out who he was more like… his mother or father.

Harry looked quite as nervous as any of the other first years. Perhaps he did not have James' confidence, then? Maybe he had his mother's more gentle and easy-going personality that Lily had. Time would tell, he reminded himself as Minerva began calling the students forward.

Albus smiled a bit as the muggle-born girl that had made the comment about the enchanted ceiling was sorted into Gryffindor. He would've guessed that she be a Ravenclaw. Especially for someone who apparently read _Hogwarts, A History_ for entertainment over the summer.

A haughty-looking blond boy that he knew to be Draco Malfoy, was immediately sorted into Slytherin. Albus frowned slightly as he took a closer look at him. He was, no doubt, very like his father. Albus wondered if the boy's years at Hogwarts could, perhaps, prevent him from following his father's ridiculous prejudice. Though his hopes were very high.

Ah, but it was finally Harry's turn. Albus sat up straight, gazing intently at the boy who looked so much like his father. Harry was gazing around the hall in nerviously at the whispers as he approached the stool. He wasn't comfortable with standing out? That boded well—or so Albus hoped. There—the hat was on his head. Albus waited… and waited… what was taking so long?

James and Lily had been a shoe-in for Gryffindor. Stealthily, he focused on the hat using legilimency.

_'Not Slytherin, eh?' _he heard the hat say._ 'Are you sure? You could be great you know. It's all here in your head. And Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, there's no doubt about that… No? Well, if you're sure, better be_…'

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Albus smiled widely and clapped loudly with everyone else. Yes, if the boy's choice was anything to judge by, he was very much like his parents. With his doubts dispelled for the moment, he relaxed and listened to the rest of the sorting, noting the level of each new student's anxiety.

At last, the Weasley was sorted into Gryffindor just like the rest of his family, and looked quite happy to sit next to Harry with whom he had obviously become friends with.

When the last student had been sorted, Minerva rolled up her scroll of parchment and nodded at Albus to stand and say a few words as she removed the hat and stool to the antechamber. His stomach began to groan in hunger as he stood.

"Welcome," he began, smiling at all the students. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Before we begin our feast, I would like to say a few words," Albus paused briefly. A few words? As far as he knew, anyone who said that had considerably more than a few words to say. No doubt Minerva expected him to go into a long speech about the rules and everything else this year…

However, his stomach had different ideas. "And here they are: nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak. Thank you."

He sat down, and a second later, platefuls of food appeared in front of him.

"Dumbledore," Minerva said reprovingly as the food appeared on the plates, "You were supposed to talk about a review of Quidditch trials, the forbidden forest, and Filch's complaint about no magic in the corridors. Surely you haven't forgotten already have you?"

"I know, Minerva," Albus replied as he helped himself to mashed potatoes, "But my stomach was speaking so loudly that I no choice but to comply. Best to deal with all of that after the feast."

Minerva's lips twitched slightly, and that was enough for Albus.

When he judged everyone well fed, Albus did get up to make a proper speech remembering to tell them to stay away from the third floor corridor, and then sent the students to their beds with a cheery "Off you trot."

He watched as Harry got up with all the other students; his eyes followed him out of the great hall and out of his sight. Yes… something told him that this would be one on the most memorable years that Hogwarts had ever seen.


	8. Someone was There

**Chapter 8: Someone was There**

Albus looked up from the latest letter from the minister as the door to his office slammed open, and strode in an enraged Severus Snape. Feeling it would be best to confront such anger with grace, he said calmly, "Good evening, Severus. Won't you sit down?"

"That—_boy_," fumed Snape, "is exactly like his father. He—"

"When you say _'that boy'_ might I assume that you are speaking of Harry?" Albus interrupted placidly.

Severus shot him a look full of frustration. "Who else would I possibly be talking about? Of course I'm talking about Potter."

Albus sighed and put away the letter from Fudge, appeasing the persistent ministry owl with a treat. "Do we have to go on about this again? What has Harry done this time?"

"The boy's cheek is intolerable. If he cannot show respect for his teachers—"

"Severus," Albus said gently, "I think you are confusing your image of Harry with your memories of James. You must realize that they are not the same person. From what I've seen so far, he acts much more like Lily than James."

Severus glowered for a moment, before finally sinking into the chair that Albus had offered in the first place. "And now Minerva tells me he's to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

"Yes," Albus answered, peering at him closely over his half-moon spectacles.

"Headmaster, if you allow Potter to bend the rules about first-years not having brooms or playing Quidditch, it will go to his head even more than his fame already has. From what I hear, Minerva only discovered his flying talents because he was breaking the rules. If you allow him to get away with this, Potter will start thinking that he can break the rules whenever he likes." Severus had calmed down and was speaking in a cold, unemotional voice, but Albus could see that he was still angry.

"I have been watching Harry very closely for a long time now Severus. I've also had several of the portraits reporting back to me on him, as I'm sure that you are aware, I observed his classes the first week. Invisibly, of course." Albus registered Snape's nod, then continued, "I do not think that this will go to Harry's head. I've told you several times before that Harry is not James, Severus. James arrived at this school the only child of doting parents, and Harry has been neglected for most of his life. I agree that the sudden fame will—and has already—helped to change his personality, but we will have to wait and see the outcome of those changes."

Snape opened his mouth, about to say something else but Dumbledore cut him off. "Please, Severus. At least wait a little longer before you decide on who he is."

Before anything else could be said, the office door swung open again, this time letting in a tabby cat with spectacle markings around its eyes.

"Ah! Good evening, Professor McGonagall," Albus said graciously as the cat changed into his transfiguration professor.

"Good evening, Albus, Severus," she replied to them with a slight nod as she said their names, though she didn't look as thought it was a 'good' evening. "I need to discuss something with you. I overheard it just now in the Great Hall. It's about Potter and Malfoy."

"Indeed," Severus said, and Albus would've gambled everything he owned that Snape was already planning a detention for Harry. "As it just so happens," Snape said, "The headmaster and I were just discussing Potter; in particular, his lack of respect for his teachers."

Minerva closed her eyes, as though biting back a retort, before turning back to Dumbledore. "Albus, I have just heard that Potter was goaded into accepting a challenge for a Wizard's Duel. By Malfoy," she added with a certain amount of severity towards Snape.

"If Draco challenged Potter to a duel, it was most likely because Potter made a remark he shouldn't have made," replied Severus coolly. "But nonetheless, I highly doubt he intends to go through with this as dueling is against school rules."

"Well, why would he challenge him if he doesn't intend to act on it?" Minerva countered. "Unless, of course, it was simply to get Potter in trouble, which mean…"

"Both students are to blame for even agreeing to duel," Albus interrupted. "But don't forget that nothing has happened… yet. There is a possibility that neither student will go through with it." The other two teachers looked as though they doubted this, but Dumbledore went on. "Did they say where to meet, Minerva?"

"Apparently, Malfoy said to meet in the trophy room at midnight tonight."

"I will take care of this matter," Albus said, surprising them both. "You two can rest assured that there will indeed be punishments if they are deserved."

Minerva nodded in approval, but Severus continued to look cynical. Dumbledore noticing this merely said, "Trust me, Severus, I will handle this."

Severus hesitated for a moment before he reluctantly nodded and mumbled, "Very well, headmaster."

"Good. Now that's settled, would you be so kind as to excuse me? I have a letter to finish," Albus beamed at them, and watched as they left the room.

Once the office was empty, Fawkes gave a melodious cry and flew onto Dumbledore's shoulder so that he could pet him. Albus gently stroked the bird's head, causing the phoenix to close his eyes lazily, as he then turned back to replying to Cornelius' latest note.

But Dumbledore wasn't paying much attention to the letter, however. He was lost in thought about the person that he had made his self-appointed duty to watch over… Harry Potter.

He had watched Harry during the first week of classes, tailing him invisibly, nearly everywhere he went. Some might have said that these precautions were extreme, but Albus felt that they were necessary. If the prophecy had any bearing on future events, then making sure that the boy's character was good was absolutely important. Once he was sure, Dumbledore could leave the boy well enough alone.

Albus finished the letter, and gave the ministry owl another treat for waiting so patiently before tying the parchment to its leg and letting it fly up and out the window. He relocated Fawkes to his normal perch by the door and went to retrieve the Pensieve from its cabinet shelf. Prodding at its contents with his wand, he watched sadly as the familiar silver figure rose from it.

He must have listened to these words a thousand times by now… and yet it never failed to send shivers up his spine—especially the line: "_And either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives…_"

Fawkes flew back over to his shoulder and rubbed his scarlet head against the side of Albus' face, demanding that he pay more attention to him. As Dumbledore continued to pet the scarlet and gold plumage, he became lost in his own thoughts.

Most people would consider the prophecy to have already been fulfilled. Voldemort had chosen to attack Harry, but the killing curse had rebounded and was sent flying back towards the caster. It was simple right? Voldemort faces baby Harry, Harry wins, and Voldemort dies.

But Dumbledore knew better than to think that it could possibly be all that simple. He knew what that dark force deep in the forests of Albania was… although Professor Quirrell had told him that he'd seen no sign of anything that seemed like dark magic when he had visited Albania. _"The th-thing m-m-must have l-l-left,"_ he'd stuttered. But something seemed wrong with that.

For some reason he couldn't, in good conscience, bring himself to trust Quirenius's word. Something told him to keep a close watch on him.

"You know, Albus, if you're going to catch those two troublemakers, you'd better be going," said the sluggish voice of Phineas Nigellus from his picture frame. "If you leave them on their own, they might even wander off to that third floor corridor. Then they'd really be in trouble… if not dead."

"I didn't think time had passed that quickly," Albus murmured, peering at the grandfather clock in one corner. He paused, considering Phineas' words. He stood up, leaving Fawkes on his perch, and with a wave of his wand, he became invisible. He left his office and headed straight towards Gryffindor tower.

_*Later*_

Albus had been waiting patiently outside the Gryffindor common room. He'd left early enough that he would be able to follow them from there.

He'd been wondering for some time now how Harry might deal with pressure or peril. He was coping as well as can be expected in his classes, but there are some lessons that can't be taught in a classroom.

_'If you leave them on their own, they might even wander off to that third floor corridor. Then they'd really be in trouble… if not dead,'_ Phineas' words circled around Albus' mind. He didn't think Harry and Ron would be so foolish to try to force their way through that door, seeing how they had mistakenly tried to get into the corridor on their first day. But when they were caught by Argus, they were reluctant to go anywhere near it again. He could tell that Harry was someone who preferred to avoid trouble enough that he would not try a second time to get through that door. Unless…

This was the perfect test of character, really. And he knew that nothing could possibly go wrong, as he, himself would be there to make sure it didn't.

After a few more minutes, the Fat Lady's empty portrait opened. Harry and Ron climbed out followed by—Dumbledore couldn't help but grin—a furious Hermione Granger, who was thoroughly scolding them about being irresponsible and how selfish they were.

Her protestations of their stupidity and recklessness were only broken when she turned around and realized that the portrait had swung shut behind her and the Fat Lady was gone.

"Now what am I going to do?" Hermione wailed.

Ron, with a look of severe irritation, told her it was her problem now as he and Harry swiftly walked away.

Albus had a sudden burst of inspiration. Harry and Ron wouldn't know how to get through the door to the third floor corridor, but Hermione, being the keen student she was, would.

Hermione leaned huffily against the wall. She seemed to be quite determined to let Harry and Ron face the consequences of their own actions, and to stay put until the Fat Lady returned. She bit her lip; her resolve wavering. She looked at Harry and Ron's retreating backs, back up at the Fat Lady's empty canvas, and finally she tore off after the two boys.

Dumbledore chuckled to himself as he followed her, checking to be sure his presence was a completely silent one. He caught up with the three just in time to hear the end of Hermione's justifying argument.

"—If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

Ron was both furious and indignant. "You've got some nerve—"

"Shut up, both of you! I heard something." Dumbledore was proud to see that Harry had been cautiously looking around rather than getting involved in what was fast becoming a loud argument.

The three turned to see that it was another first year boy, who was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, and snoring in a noisy, yet in a muffled way. It was almost understandable that Ron mistook the noise for that of Mrs. Norris, Argus' cat. When they came near, Neville Longbottom woke up and began talking with them.

Dumbledore watched interestedly as Harry sorted out whether Neville would come with them or not. Neville was frightened of being left alone, and though Harry gave in, Ron issued a stern warning to both Neville and Hermione that they had better not get them caught. If they did, he wouldn't rest until he learned the 'Curse of the Bogies' that he heard about in class.

Dumbledore smiled faintly at this fervent threat. Little did they know how guarded they were from being discovered by Argus tonight.

The headmaster followed them invisibly to the trophy room, only once pausing to send Mrs. Norris off in another direction so that she would not discover the nighttime wanderers. The four were being quite helpful; they didn't make a sound as they proceeded towards their destination.

When they entered the out-of-bounds room, they noticed something more than just moonlight and shadows—Malfoy wasn't there yet.

Albus considered this for a moment. He had a very good idea that the Slytherin boy wouldn't show up, but he rather wanted to get the group to leave so that he could direct them where they needed to go. But how was he supposed to get them away without them noticing where they were going?

He performed a quick spell and waited for a moment for it to take effect.

"Maybe he's chickened out," Ron suggested in a whisper after a few more minutes.

A sudden noise made the four jump, and Dumbledore smiled knowingly. The furious caretaker had just arrived and was outside the room, speaking with a slight wheeze to Mrs. Norris. That got them moving.

But in their hurry, Neville tripped into Ron, which caused them to knock over a suit of armor. With the speed of a much younger man, Dumbledore was able to put a silencing charm on the door so that, while Filch came running, it was not the immediate capture it might have been. He likewise blocked Harry's yell of "RUN!" from Argus' ears.

Then they were off. Dumbledore managed to keep pace with Harry though it was just barely; the boy was faster than he looked. He was quite sure that Harry had no idea where he was going, which was excellent for guiding the foursome inconspicuously.

At each crucial turning, Dumbledore gave a slight flick of his wand, making one passage less obvious so that the running students often overlooked it. Once he even made sure that the tapestry to a hidden passageway, which he knew Harry had never seen before, fluttered invitingly, ensuring that the fleeing students took it.

Finally, the need for a air and the relative safety of being away from the trophy room made the gang pause. Although grateful for the breather, Dumbledore immediately cast around for a way to get them moving again. But this time, he didn't have to summon anyone.

Peeves suddenly came shooting out of a classroom, squealing gleefully when he saw the four students. "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty," he sang, cackling madly.

Dumbledore always knew he liked that poltergeist.

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please." Dumbledore shook his head and suppressed a chuckle. Even after only a week, Harry really should know better by now than to ask something of the poltergeist directly.

"Should tell Filch, I should," Peeves continued, in a would-be moral voice, "It's for your own good, you know."

Dumbledore, of course, knew that Peeves would do no such thing. The funny little man made it his life's mission to cause as much trouble and misery for the bad tempered caretaker. He knew that the day that Peeves would help Argus was when Severus awarded points to Gryffindor of his own free will. The four panic-stricken students, however, hadn't realized this.

Ron was the first to lose his patience. "Get out of the way!"

That did it, of course. They were forced to flee as Peeves bellowed at the top of his lungs to the whole school. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Dumbledore made sure that the only place for them to go was the door right at the end of the corridor—locked, as he knew it would be.

Ron moaned something about them being doomed when he tried to pull the door open and it wouldn't budge. Hermione snapped at them to get out of the way as she performed the _Alohomora_ charm just as Albus took off the more advanced spells, and the lock clicked open.

They rushed in and practically slammed the door shut again—Dumbledore only just managed to get in behind them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione pressed their ears to the door, the only thing on their minds was getting away from the fast approaching trouble that was Argus Filch.

That left Neville as the only one to look around to see what was behind them.

Dumbledore was suddenly glad that the trio had brought Neville along, if they had left without even noticing what he wanted them to see, and then this whole excursion would have been for nothing. Neville froze in terror as Dumbledore quickly cast a spell over the giant, three-headed dog to keep it from reacting too quickly. He stayed that way for a few minutes while the others made sure that Filch had disappeared, and then tugged frantically on Harry's sleeve.

The invisible headmaster watched the horrified faces of the first-years intently. Would Harry freeze, as Neville had done? The spell was wearing off now, but Harry didn't move a muscle…

And then, by instinct, Harry yanked the door open; the other three fell outside with him. Dumbledore quickly stepped over them before Harry slammed the door shut.

None of them said a word as they all ran back to Gryffindor tower, but Dumbledore was at least pleased at the way Harry had reacted. He smiled when the Fat Lady swung open at once as Harry gasped the password at her.

Inside, Neville went up to bed as the trio sat in chairs in front of the fire, trying to get their breaths back. Ron was the first to speak after several tense minutes. "What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school? If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Dumbledore actually pondered this for a moment. Perhaps he should have Hagrid take Fluffy for a walk every couple of nights. He certainly didn't want to neglect the animal's well-being.

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" Hermione snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

Ah, that made Dumbledore very glad of the girl's presence indeed.

"The floor?" Harry asked. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No, _not_ the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."

_'Yes, a good thing indeed that Hermione Granger had come along,'_ Dumbledore thought. Now if only the girl could teach Harry to notice these sort of things even in a moment of danger.

He watched Harry's expression as Hermione went up to bed, and could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He'd listened to a conversation between Harry and Ron about the article that had turned up in the newspaper on the Gringotts break-in, and of course he knew Harry had been with Hagrid the day he'd retrieved the Stone from vault 713. Harry was putting two and two together, Dumbledore concluded with pride.

He waited until both boys went up to bed before he finally left and retreated to his office for the night; he thought once again about the night's events. Many of the teachers would undoubtedly claim that it was careless of him.

Which was why, of course, they wouldn't find out. Dumbledore knew very well what he was doing and what needed to be done. It had long since occurred to him that if any Dark wizard in history could want the Stone hidden in his castle, it would be Voldemort. And the unsettling events that Nicholas had described in the way of visitors just happened to match with the disappearance of the dark force he'd been watching in Albania all this time.

Harry would be all right. Dumbledore would make sure of that. He firmly believed that if someone had the ability to uncover any knowledge, he or she was worthy of the trust and judgment that came with that knowledge.

He did not need to interfere with Harry's life, for a while anyway, Dumbledore decided. He would wait to see what Harry did with what he'd found out.

**(Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review)**


	9. Traveling with Trolls

**Chapter 9: Traveling with Trolls**

A portrait cleared its throat, and Albus looked up. "Ah, Everard. Good evening. And how is young Harry doing?"

Everard gazed at him innocently from his painting, fiddling around with his wand before he spoke. "He's well enough, I suppose, Dumbledore," he said lazily, though Albus could tell, as always, just how careful Everard was with his speech. "Healthy, excited for Halloween. He's as normal as any of the other students, and he's doing reasonably well in classes, though he's no genius."

Dumbledore heard Phineas made a derisive noise from the other end of the room. "He's very different from his parent's isn't he? They were some of the brightest students to ever come to this school. That curse probably addled his brains."

Albus chose not to comment, for he knew very well that magical or mental ability did not always surface when people expected it. Rather, more often, it surpassed any expectations when it was least anticipated.

_'We will just have to wait and see,'_ Albus decided. He believed that Harry would be a great wizard yet, though it might not ever show in a classroom. Instead, he asked, "Anything unusual today?"

Everard gave a neat shrug, examining the background of his own canvas. This, of course, meant that he had something to report, but wondered how to say it. "His class finally started levitation in Charms."

"That's the class he has with the Ravenclaws, I believe," Albus encouraged, nodding.

Everard looked up, and there was a hint of pride in his voice. "Yes, the Ravenclaws were all there, but the first one to get the charm right was that Hermione Granger. A Gryffindor, I believe." He looked around at the assorted portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses expectantly, and was rewarded with soft cheers and exclamations of pride from previous Gryffindors and noises of skepticism and dismissal from previous Ravenclaws.

Albus sighed, all too used to 'My house is better than yours' act. "Was there anything else, Everard?" Albus asked pointedly.

Everard raised his eyebrows. "Oh, young Potter managed it too, eventually, never fear, Dumbledore."

Albus waited expectantly, and Everard finally continued.

"But I think you ought to give some serious thought to the people that boy has around him as his friends," Everard added in an offhand sort of voice.

"Just what do you mean by that, Everard?"

"It's just that that Weasley boy is awfully careless about the remarks that come out of his mouth," Everard said, and Albus could sense his disgust and concern for one who was so lenient with words to know when to hold his tongue.

"What did he say? Did he offend someone?"

"No, he made a rather rude comment about that Granger girl."

"Big deal, what did he do, mention her muggle parentage?" Phineas asked from beside him. Phineas could never quite understand why Everard might find such a thing rude.

"Not at all," Everard replied, affecting unconcern. "That would be rather… un-Gryffindorish of him, wouldn't it? No, he simply called her a know-it-all and said it was no wonder she didn't have any friends."

Albus sat up. "And what did Harry do? Did he say anything?"

Everard, he could tell, was quite amused by how intent he was. "Well, he didn't chew him out about what the Weasley boy said, if that's what you're looking for," he commented. He paused to see if Albus' expression would change. When it didn't, he continued, "But once that Granger girl had run off in tears, he did look as though he felt rather guilty about it. Potter made some awkward comment to Weasley about how she'd heard him. The boy isn't terribly gifted with words, Dumbledore."

"P-P-Professor D-D-D-Dumbledore."

The portraits feigned sleep on cue like they always did when someone entered the room.

Albus looked around to see Professor Quirrell smiling nervously at him from the doorway. "Good evening, Quirenius. I must apologize, I didn't hear you come in." He smiled kindly over his spectacles. "Is there something the matter?"

Quirrell let out a high-pitched laugh. "Oh, n-no not-nothing, Albus," he stuttered as he began wringing his hands together nervously. "It's j-just that S-S-Severus s-sent me t-to get you. It's t-t-time for the H-H-Halloween f-feast."

Albus glanced at his watch. "So it is. Lost track of the time again. Shall we go down to the Great Hall together then?"

"Y-yes, indeed, P-professor."

But as soon as they had descended the spiral staircase and emerged from behind the gargoyle that guarded Albus' office, Quirrel gave a little start. "Oh, I—I f-f-forgot something in m-my o-o-office, Albus. I'll m-m-m-meet you d-down there in a b-b-bit."

Albus smiled thoughtfully at him. "Very well, Quirenius, but don't be too long. I know for a fact that the house elves have outdone themselves for this particular feast. I wouldn't want you to miss it."

"C-c-certainly n-not, headmaster," Quirrell's lips twitched in a tense smile before he hurried away.

Humming to himself, Albus continued down the corridor until he came upon Peeves grinning wickedly as he floated over a couple of first-year Hufflepuffs, pelting them with walking bits of chalk that he'd nicked from a classroom. One of the girls, squealed and ducked around a statue of the humpback witch to avoid the chalk.

"Ickle firsties, what fun! Happy Halloween from Peevesie, treats and tricksies! WEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Peeves," Albus called scolding.

The poltergeist was so startled to see the headmaster strolling down the hall that he nearly fell out of the air. "Good evening, Professorhead, sir," he said in the oily voice that he always adopted when he was addressing to the headmaster.

"Good evening, Peeves. You're having a pleasant Halloween, I trust?" Albus said pleasantly but there was a hint of rebuke in his tone. "However, I must ask you to allow my students to pass. I also believe that there is a classroom that is missing some chalk?"

"Oh, yes, Professorhead. Of course, your Headness, sir. I was just borrowing them, you see, but I'll return them right away, sir."

"Off you go, then. And Peeves?"

"Yes, Dumbly-diddly-dore?" Peeves asked, half-upside-down as he retrieved the chalk.

"As long as you're planning your Halloween jokes, remember that if you try to set fire to the Great Hall, you'll automatically be expelled from the castle. We don't need a repeat of what happened last time."

"I remember, Professorhead, sir," Peeves said, looking rather disgruntled, before he blew a loud raspberry and zoomed backward down the hall, shouting out a loud crud song.

Albus turned to the cowering students, one of whom murmured a barely audible thanks. "Well, now that that's settled, would you three accompany me to the Great Hall? I don't think it would be very wise to miss one of the greatest celebrations Hogwarts holds during the school year," he said, smiling as they fell into step behind him. "You know, our gamekeeper, Hagrid, spent the entire year growing the pumpkins to provide the Great Hall with its wonderful jack-o-lanterns just for tonight."

The first-years were too timid to respond, and could only nod in embarrassment. They looked relieved when they reached the doors to the Great Hall, and went scurrying off to the Hufflepuff table. Dumbledore chuckled as he swept up the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables up to the high table where Minerva was looking at him disapprovingly, no doubt for being late.

"Good evening, Minerva," he said as he pulled out his chair to sit down.

"You're late, Albus."

"Ah, but it's such a nice evening for a fashionably late entrance. Now I'll go ahead and start the feast, shall I?" With a smile at her thin-lipped expression, he stood to say a few words and gave the signal to the house elves to send the food up.

As he helped himself to some of the potatoes, Albus glanced over at the Gryffindor table. He could see them all laughing and enjoying themselves—and the Weasley twins had their heads together. They seemed to be obsessed over an old piece of parchment, until George tapped the parchment discreetly before carefully folding it up, as if it were a priceless artifact, and put it away. Albus wondered if he should be expecting any mischief from them in the next couple of days.

A little way down from them sat Harry and Ron. Harry looked as though he were having the time of his life, which made Albus think that the Dursleys must not have celebrated Halloween very often or very boisterously. Perhaps it had something to do with Halloween being a wizard's holiday.

He then noticed for the first time that Hermione Granger was missing from the group of first-years. Harry must've noticed this as well because he looked at Hermione's empty seat and began talking to Ron, who immediately began to look guilty about something.

Dumbledore was about to point this out to Minerva when the great double doors that led out to the Entrance Hall suddenly burst open, spilling forth a nearly hysterical Professor Quirrell. He ran through the Hall and up to the high table. "T-troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know…" Quirenius managed to spit out before he sank away in a dead faint.

_'What on earth was Quirenius doing in the dungeons?'_ was the only thing Albus was able to think of before the chaos of the students overwhelmed everything.

"Silence," Albus called, making himself heard above the din. As if all the students had been stricken dumb, the room went deathly quiet. He calmly directed the students to return to their dormitories, and began organizing the teachers to search the castle. "Poppy, will you see that Professor Quirrell is all right?" he asked the healer before turning to the other teachers, "Now, the rest of you will follow me to the dungeons. Except you, Minerva. I'd like you make sure there are no stragglers in the hallways, and we'll be needing someone to make sure the troll hasn't made its way upstairs. Follow me, now," he called to them, and was glad to see them all draw their wands.

As they passed through the Entrance Hall, Albus eyed Everard craning his neck in one of the picture frames to catch a glimpse of him. A slight nod from him, and Everard was off to keep an eye on Harry. "Spread out in twos and threes," Albus directed. "A troll won't be too hard to deal with, but I want you all ready."

It took Albus perhaps fifteen minutes to realize that there weren't any signs of a troll in any part of the dungeons. When he came to this conclusion, he left their furious caretaker with Professors Vector and Flitwick and proceeded back up to the Entrance Hall to find Minerva.

He wasn't pleased to see that he found she'd left her post—that is until he heard the banging and the crashing overhead.

"DUMBLEDORE!" shouted Everard's voice from the picture of drunken monks on his right. "You better head up to the girls bathroom on the second floor! The troll's there! Potter, Weasley, and the Granger girl…" he cried.

But Dumbledore set off as soon as he heard the words 'second floor'. When Albus reached the girls' bathroom on the second floor, it was to see Harry and Ron's retreating backs disappearing around a corner.

"We should have gotten more than ten points," he managed to hear Ron say.

"Five, you mean," he heard Harry reply. "Once she's taken off Hermione's."

"It was good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron said. "Mind you, we did save her."

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," was all he could hear Harry say before they were out of his sight.

Wondering what on earth had happened here, he entered the bathroom to find the troll, out cold on the floor and Minerva and Severus in the middle of a heated argument in the doorway.

"They were out of bounds," Severus insisted. "They were lucky they weren't killed, and if they'd been any more irresponsible…"

"I already took points from Miss Granger for that, Severus! Potter and Weasley showed great courage in coming to the rescue of a fellow student, as ill-advised as the venture might have been." Minerva's nostrils were positively flaring in indignation.

"Perhaps I might interrupt for a moment to ask what happened?" Albus interrupted. They both jumped to see the Headmaster standing in the doorway. Snape recovered first.

"Potter and Weasley took it into their heads to go after the troll. I suppose they thought they could take it on themselves," Severus said gruffly.

"From what Miss Granger says, it was she who did that, and Potter and Weasley were coming to her aid. It seems that it was bad luck they came upon the troll"—Severus snorted, and Dumbledore was fighting to keep himself from rolling his eyes—"but they handled the situation very well indeed." Minerva looked at Albus defiantly. "According to Miss Granger, Potter stuck his wand up its nose and Weasley knocked it out with its own club. I took five points from Granger, but gave five each to Potter and Weasley."

"Well, I won't argue with that," Albus mused.

"P-p-professor D-d-d-dumbledore," came a quivering voice, and Albus was amazed to see Quirenius, none the worse for his fainting spell, quaking nervously in one of the bathroom's corners. "I'm t-t-terr-rribly s-sorry," he stammered. "It s-s-seems the t-troll left th-the d-d-dungeons af-after I c-came to t-tell y-y-you."

Albus frowned slightly as he considered his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "It seems that way. You don't look so well, Quirenius. Perhaps you ought to go and see Madame Pomfrey?"

"N-no, I'm q-quite alright, P-p-professor," Quirrell muttered, going paler still. "B-but p-perhaps if I g-g-g-go lie d-down for a b-b-bit."

"Yes, yes, get some rest," Albus said, nodding. "I'll call Hagrid and the other teachers to dispose of this—er—" he motioned to the troll laying on the floor "—creature."

Quirrell departed in a hurry, and Minerva excused herself to go and look in on her students in Gryffindor. Severus, however, lingered. "I'd like a word with you, Headmaster."

"I was just about to suggest as much," Albus said pleasantly. "If you'll just follow me to my office, then, I think its best we have this conversation away from prying ears." Snape nodded abruptly and limped behind him.

Once they were in Dumbledore's office, Snape opened his mouth to speak, but Albus interrupted before he could begin.

"You're bleeding, Severus."

The potions master grimaced and looked down at his leg. "I'll deal with it later. Right now I need to talk to you about Quirrell."

"What is it about Quirenius that you feel so uneasy about, Severus?"

"That troll was a diversion," he answered bluntly.

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I thought that's what it was. But for what, do you think?"

"For someone to get a look at what's guarding the Stone," was Snape's answer.

Albus was silent for several minutes, gazing intently at Severus. In the first few seconds, Severus let his habitual guard down enough for Albus to see, through legilimency, an image of Quirrell opening the door to the third-floor corridor, and Snape being bitten by one of Fluffy's three heads. "You don't trust Quirenius," he said softly.

Severus shook his head.

He sighed, coming to a conclusion that was very sobering indeed to consider. It so happened that, after seeing Quirrell's odd behavior ever since he arrived at the castle, and especially tonight, Albus was finding it difficult to trust him himself. However, there were immense difficulties in dealing with the problem. Not the least was the fact that Albus had finally hunted down the whereabouts of the dark presence that had hidden out in Albania. The answers pointed right into Hogwarts itself, to the very man Albus had hired to protect the school against such a force.

Things were dangerous indeed. So far, it was only a simple masquerade. Quirrell was content to lie low and teach while he figured out exactly how to get to the Stone. But there was still pressure to act soon. While Albus was fairly confident that he'd never get to it (even if he managed to get past all the other teachers' protective spells, there was still the trick Albus himself intended to employ sometime over the Christmas holidays), he'd rather Quirenius didn't try. But on the other hand…

"Severus, you of all people should believe in second chances. There is no proof that Quirenius is after the Stone. Upon awakening from his faint, he might just have wanted to be sure that everything was still as it should be."

"But, Professor," Severus said, and Albus could sense the righteous anger behind his voice. He'd _seen_ Quirrell, hadn't he? Then, his emotions were mastered again, his mind as blank to the casual observer as always. "I can't trust Quirrell, Headmaster, but if you insist on doing so, I won't speak against him."

"Thank you, Severus," Albus said quietly, "I'm not saying that we can trust him. But we must keep a much closer eye of him from now on."

Grudgingly, Severus nodded and excused himself. Albus knew, as he watched Severus disappear down the spiraling staircase, that Quirrell was every bit as guilty as Severus said. He also knew that Severus would never understand why Albus did not simply fire Quirrell. The situation was a lot more dangerous that Severus realized. Albus did not know the full extent of the danger himself, but knew enough not to act hastily.

Even before Albus had found the truth about Quirenius, there had been far too many coincidences. The disappearance of the dark force in the forests of Albania corresponded too neatly with Quirrell's trip there. Then there was the conversation Nicholas had with the hooded stranger regarding the Stone not long before Quirrell arrived at school.

Albus frowned worriedly as he stroked Fawkes. There was another matter to consider: Quirrell might well be under the Imperius Curse, or something else that hindered his ability to act for himself. It might not be accident that Quirenius had come back from his year off with a stutter and a mortal fear of anything scarier than a hairbrush.

And Albus would resign as Headmaster before he allowed any of the teachers or students to be harmed unnecessarily. It was early in the year yet, and the Stone hadn't even been put in its planned place. Quirrell might not have known it, but he wouldn't have gotten anything even if he'd made it past Fluffy and all the other obstacles. Surely there had to be some way to protect everyone and everything. If he could only think of it…

There was the dignified sound of a throat clearing, and Albus looked up.

Everard raised an eyebrow at him from his portrait. "About time you noticed me, headmaster," he said as he sat back comfortably.

"Ah, Everard, I hope that you can forgive me for taking off like that. But…" Dumbledore began.

"No, no, I understand," Everard said. "You wanted to get to the troll. I just thought that you wanted to know what happened with Potter and Weasley."

"Oh? Did you see what happened?" Albus asked quickly.

"Yes and no," Everard said. "I was watching Potter like you wanted me to do. But he then pulled the Weasley boy aside and told him about the Granger girl not knowing about the troll."

"Really?" Albus asked interested. "What happened?"

"Well, he told Weasley that they needed to warn Granger about the troll and they snuck away. I followed them to the second floor and that's when they ran into the troll."

"And did they try to fight it?" Dumbledore asked intently.

"Not yet," Everard said. "They both hid when the troll came into view. When it went into the bathroom, they locked it in. But as they walked away, there was a scream. It turns out that they accidently locked the troll in with Granger."

A few of the portraits were shaking their heads while Armando Dippet let out a cry of incredulity. "Well," said Phineas slyly. "Isn't that ironic?"

"What happened then?" Albus asked, ignoring Phineas.

"What else?" Everard said. "They went back and went to help the girl. You know that there aren't any paintings in the bathroom Dumbledore so I couldn't see what happened in there. But after a few loud crashes and bangs, the teachers came down the corrider. And that's around the time that I went to go and find you."

Dumbledore was amazed at first. A mountain troll was definitely not what he had planned for testing Harry, but this proved that the boy was not only brave but also resourceful and cared about the safety of others.

"Also, I thought you might want to know that Potter and Weasley are in their dormitory finishing off the Halloween feast," Everard said with an air of self-satisfaction, "With Hermione Granger."

There were several whispers among the portraits. "Indeed?" Albus asked.

"Yes. I guess that you just can't stay angry after fighting a mountain troll together. And with nothing else to do, it seems they've become friends."

Albus chuckled, feeling his heart go a bit lighter at this news. "Excellent. Harry needs another friend like Miss Granger. I can see now that he's a bit reckless, and needs someone with a level-head at his side."

Everard blinked impassively at him. "Something the matter with your eyes, Dumbledore? They've shining."

(Hey there. I hoped that you all enjoyed this chapter. For the next chapter, should I write about the Quidditch match? Or just skip over to Christmas? Please review)


	10. Deepest desire

**Chapter 10: Deepest desire**

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office finishing wrapping up a Christmas present when he heard that familiar voice, "Albus, my young friend."

His lips twitching, Albus looked over the rims of his half-moon spectacles to see Nicholas Flamel's head in his fireplace once again. "Nicholas. How good to see you. And how are you doing this fine evening?"

"I'm doing well, Albus, quite well. Well, except for a tiny argument with Perenelle, but I'm guessing she'll start talking to me again soon. It's been 3 weeks already, after all, and even she has to let go of a grudge sometime, even if she _does_ live forever. But putting that aside, how is everything with you? The governors are still being interfering idiots, I trust?"

"When they aren't being nosy, then I start worrying," Albus responded amiably before getting up and kneeling down by the fireplace to speak with him better.

"And how's my Stone? I assume that it's still safe isn't it?"

"Yes, and I am also planning to move it to down to its chamber before the start of the New Year."

"That's good. I'm glad that you keep moving it around; it'll keep whoever whose trying to steal it on their toes."

"Precisely my plan. Though once moved, I think it will reside most comfortably in its new location for the rest of the year. My staff has extended an exceptional effort to provide additional protection for the Stone. It's the best protection that I can offer."

Nicholas beamed. "Excellent. Yes, quite excellent. No less than what I expected from you. I'm glad to hear that everything is going well."

"Was that your only reason for calling, Nicholas?"

"Well, that and some extra time on my hands, what with Perenelle refusing to speak to me, and the extra floo powder that I just have lying around the place, you know…"

Albus smiled knowingly at him. "This argument is starting to get to you, isn't it?"

Nicholas rolled his eyes. "Well, no more than usual. It's dull having no one to talk to around the house. Our house-elf has taken her side, and she told all the portraits not to speak to me either."

"What on earth were you fighting about anyway?"

Nicholas grimaced. "Oh, something about how I never pay any attention to her and that I should see what it's like to not have anyone in the house talk to."

"I see," Albus provided though he was fighting to hold back a laugh.

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. "But how the heck am I supposed to pay any attention to her if she doesn't even look me in the eye? We've been married for centuries and I still don't understand her at all." Nicholas shook his head, "I swear, even if I somehow live for another 1000 years I don't think that I'll ever understand that woman, Albus."

Albus chuckled, but something about Nicholas's tone made him raise his eyebrows and ask, "What do you mean by IF? You are more than capable of living another 1000 years."

Nicholas looked down slightly and said. "It's nothing… it's just… I've been feeling so _tired_ lately Albus. And then there's this whole trouble with the stone… sometimes I think that it would be so much easier to stop taking the elixir and let death carry me away."

Albus stared at him in surprise. "That's the first time that I've heard you talk about wanting to die."

Nicholas shrugged, "Ah well, ignore me my friend. I've got too much time and not enough to do. Anyway I just wanted to talk to someone—it's been so quiet around here lately."

"Well, once Perenelle feels that you suffered enough, she'll start talking to you again. I suggest buying her something nice for Christmas."

With a last grin, Nicholas's head disappeared from the fire.

Albus returned to his task, gift-wrapping a certain silvery cloak, and addressing it to one Harry Potter. He flicked his wand at the half-wrapped object, and the colorful paper straightened itself, folding neatly to cover the shiny material underneath. A second flick of his wand sent a red ribbon curling around the package, tying itself neatly in a decorative bow.

"I thought you said you didn't do favoritism, Dumbledore," came the sly voice of Phineas Nigellus from the wall.

"I don't," Albus said simply.

"And yet you've started giving Christmas presents to the students?" Phineas asked skeptically.

"It's not exactly a Christmas present," Albus explained. "That cloak was Harry's father's, and I'm simply passing it on."

"Tool for trouble-making, that's all it is to someone of his age," Phineas said grumpily. "No good will come of it, I promise you."

"Oh, I beg to disagree," Albus said mildly. "There may come a time when it will be a very good thing for Harry to have."

"He's a first-year, Dumbledore. A child. What time could that be, except years from now?"

"I've told you many times before Phineas; you should never underestimate children. As a former headmaster of Hogwarts, you should know better. Besides…" Albus's voice trailed off for a moment as he thought back to the night when he asked to borrow the cloak from James and Lily. How Harry had started crying when the cloak was pulled away from him and the look in the infant's eyes when he was in the crib… as if the baby understood everything that was happening…

Albus promised that he would bring it back to him… Harry already waited 10 years… he shouldn't have to wait any longer even if he didn't remember.

"I made a promise to return it," Albus finished to Phineas.

Calling a house-elf to his office, the professor handed her the parcel. "Be sure that this is placed on Harry Potter's bed on Christmas morning."

"Yes sir, Professor Dumbledore!" the elf chimed and then went running off. Albus watched her go until he decided to call it a night.

_*The next day*_

The next day dawned bright, cold, and snowy; in short, everything a Christmas should be (at least in Albus's opinion). When he entered his office, Albus greeted the portraits with an exuberant "Merry Christmas" and was surprised to find Dexter Fortescue waiting impatiently for him.

"Good morning, Dexter, and a merry Christmas to you. How is Harry this morning? Aren't you keeping an eye on him this week?"

"Quite excited. I gather he's received more presents than he's ever seen this morning," Dexter said, a small smile gracing his lips.

"Well, that's good," he said aloud. "From what I gather he didn't receive many presents at the Dursleys? I hope that this will start to make up for it."

"Among the presents was an invisibility cloak. There was no signature—only a note with some very familiar handwriting." Dexter paused for effect until Albus let out a cough and Dexter finished, "I've always said your writing was far too fancy, Dumbledore. It's very recognizable."

Albus sighed. "You see it as a sign of favoritism as well, do you?" he asked, resigned.

"Oh, no, Dumbledore. You stated in the note that the cloak was his father's. It is, by all rights, his, and was technically his before you gave it to him. I would have to be as low as a Slytherin to complain that you were favoring a Gryffindor, now wouldn't I?"

Phineas made an impatient and offended noise at this, and began shouting insults from two pictures away.

"How rude," Dexter commented before he lay back in his chair.

"Is there a problem with giving the cloak to Harry, Dexter?" Dumbledore asked to get the man's thoughts back on the subject.

"Well, I expect that the Weasley boy might be a little jealous, but he'll get over it."

"Anything else?"

"How _exactly_ do you expect me to _follow_ the boy if he's _invisible_?" Dexter finally burst out, looking distinctly miffed.

"He's an eleven-year-old boy," Albus pointed out. "I expect he'll make some sort of sounds as he's moving that you'll be able to follow."

"You're forgetting the boy's upbringing, Dumbledore! He's been trained in that damn Muggle home to pretend that he didn't exist!" Dexter countered.

"You can go through all the other painting in the castle," Albus suggested. "Get the other portraits to tell you where he is once he becomes visible again."

"D'you have any idea just how long that could _take_? I'll never get to see anything that way! And a lot of good that will do _you_ if I don't!"

"I expect you to be able to handle it," Albus clarified.

As Dexter began cursing, Albus chuckled softly to himself, causing a few of the portraits to look at him oddly. As soon as Harry had come to this school, he had been assigning the former Headmasters or Headmistresses to follow Harry around and to keep tabs on the boy. He sometimes wondered if the portraits were 100% trustworthy, or if they told Albus everything Harry was doing, the way they promised.

Dexter, especially, was known for hiding things, not for any particular reason, but for the satisfaction of knowing things that others didn't. On the other hand, he along with a few of the other paintings were starting to like the task of looking after Harry with the cheerfulness Albus had hoped for. He walked over to the window and glanced out while pretending to listen to Dexter's complaints. His eyes fell on the Quidditch pitch and his thoughts went to the game…

Dumbledore remembered watching the boy at the Quidditch game not long ago. He couldn't go himself, but he watched the entire thing from this window. He had always loved watching the game and was glad that he had a window that had a perfect view of the field.

He almost didn't recognize the boy when he came out onto the field—he was easily spotted because he was the smallest on the team—but the way that he flew… he was definitely his father's son.

He watched with a slight smile as Harry flew high above the rest of the game looking for the snitch… Albus couldn't see it, but he knew that the boy was enjoying himself. For the first half of the game, Harry was just like any other child at this school. He was having fun… maybe for the first time in his life; he could act like a child. Watching the game, it was so easy to forget that there was no prophecy, and that everything was going to be ok.

But that feeling didn't last long; he nearly had a heart-attack with he saw that Harry's broom was trying to buck him off. He watched frozen as the broom continued to jump and roll over until Harry was almost thrown off, hanging on only by one hand. He didn't understand why he felt fear like this… he was so close to going out onto the field himself to stop it when all of a sudden, Harry was able to pull himself back onto his broom and streaked towards the ground. He watched as Harry hit the ground on all four, and looked as if he was about to be sick. It wasn't until he heard on the commentary that Harry was safe and was even able to catch the snitch in his mouth did relief—warm and wonderful relief—swept over him like a wave.

He couldn't believe something like this had happened under his nose. Severus came to him later that day and told him how he believed that it was Quirrel who had jinxed the broom. He felt a deep anger that threatened to overcome his calmer and more reasonable side. For a moment he wanted to go down and confront Quirenius about this… but he was somehow able to hold himself back from doing something stupid. The best he could do was ask Severus to keep a closer eye on him and to go on with life.

Albu looked down at the tiny fluttering Snitch in his hand. The tiny gold-colored sphere flapped it's wings frantically, trying to get out of Dumbledore's grasp. This was the Snitch that Harry caught… he knew that Snitches have flesh memories and that they remember the touch of the first person who handled them in case of a disputed capture. Everyone, including the maker, has to wear gloves when handling the snitch until releasing one for each game. Because of this, they had to use a new snitch for each game.

But he decided to hold on the snitch… just in case.

He tossed the walnut-sized ball into one of his many cabinets for later on before he turned his gaze back to the Quidditch field… losing himself in his own thoughts again. It felt so strange watching Harry flying in his first game… flying just as good—if not even better than James had been.

How it had brought back memories, James would have been proud at this moment. However, Albus felt a frown pull at the corners of his mouth at the thought that crossed his mind—he knew that James would be glad that Albus had finally passed on the cloak to Harry, but he wished that James were here to give it to his son himself. Albus sat back down at his desk and thought how sad it was that James never got a chance to see what a fine boy his son was, and appreciate all of Harry's good qualities. Lily and James would have been rejoicing at Harry getting into Gryffindor, and doing so well in his classes. He even gave a grim smile when he thought about how James wouldn't have been able to contain himself if he heard that Harry got onto the Quidditch team in his first year. His son became the Quidditch star that he had been hoping for.

No one else knew that the Headmaster kept Harry under almost constant surveillance, in and outside of Hogwarts. Albus sighed. It pained him to think of Harry's past ten years. When he had first seen Harry's thin condition, he had felt like Apparating straight to those Muggles, and blasting their house apart for their treatment of Harry. How he had to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs, often starving him, and allowing their pig of a son to beat him up. How could they do all that to the boy that will one day be the only person that could stand between them and pure evil?

And yet, the most painful thought that the Headmaster was experiencing was the knowledge that he would have to send Harry back there to that treatment again. Harry didn't deserve to be handed over to those people! If Lily and James could've seen Harry's living conditions of the past ten years, they would probably have been sent to Azkaban just for their thoughts. Still, in life difficult choices had to be made, and Dumbledore remained convinced that he had done the best he could. He couldn't continually regret the past. All he could do was give Harry the tools he needed to get through the next few years, and keep him alive.

_*Later*_

Dumbledore had gone down to the Christmas feast, and he examined Harry from afar. While the boy appeared to be having the time of his life, bless him, every once in a while a perplexed look passed his face. Albus was willing to bet everything he owned that he was thinking of the cloak, and who sent it. Professor Dumbledore knew that Harry would probably be using the cloak in the night to come.

_*That night*_

Albus intended to move the mirror that very night, he really did. He'd placed the elegant mirror in one of the many unused classrooms and was preparing to move the stone down into the chamber any second. He was under a spell of invisibility as a precaution, and was about to start work on the mirror, when he heard a noise outside in the hallway. He opened the door slightly, but stood back to be able to hear.

Argus's voice floated towards him, clearly audible through the open door. "You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library—Restricted Section."

"The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them," Severus replied, and Albus had to smile. Severus had been planning on putting up extra protections all around the school when he first started suspecting Quirenius of treachery, and it could only be to the good if he had Argus looking out for mischief as well. Then again, Argus was far more likely to find mischievous _students_ than anyone of real threat…

Albus felt a breath of air stir beside him, almost as though someone had walked past him. He listened more closely, and once the sounds of Severus and Argus faded away, he thought that he heard a deep breath that sounded like a sigh of relief. Albus needed only to see Dexter looking dutifully out of a picture frame in the corner of the room to know who it was.

Curious about how Harry would react, Dumbledore waited in the shadows, knowing that at any moment, Harry would see the Mirror. What would it show for him? Would it show him as a powerful wizard, in control of an army? Perhaps in the mirror he would be surrounded with riches, to make up for the poverty in which he'd lived most of his life. Would it show him with a family, safe and away from the Wizarding world? This moment would tell the professor many things about the boy's future, and what kind of heart he had.

He tapped his glasses with his wand so that he was able to see through the cloak to the boy who was looking around the room with curiosity. He watched as Harry turned, and finally noticed the mirror. He watched as he walked forward eagerly, and examined it. When he stepped forward to look into it, he jumped back with a gasp. He watched as Harry turned with a hand over his mouth to keep him from yelling out loud.

A few seconds later, Harry became visible as his invisibility cloak slipped and fell to the floor, pooling around his feet. He was staring, pale and transfixed, at the Mirror of Erised.

There Albus saw the terrible sadness in his eyes, as he stared hungrily into the mirror, his hands pressed against the glass. As Albus watched Harry struggle with his emotions, the boy moved forward as though in a trance, until he was nearly nose-to-nose with the mirror. He stood staring at his reflection for several minutes, giving Albus plenty of time to wonder what it was he was seeing, before whispering, "Mum? Dad?"

A sad smile found its way onto Albus's face. What Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, wanted more than anything else in the world was what millions of children took for granted everyday: his parents. Not fame, not riches, but a family.

They stood that way for a long time, Harry watching his reflection (and presumably his parents), and Albus watching Harry. Finally, Albus felt compelled to intervene. If he let the boy stand there any longer, Harry might well go insane. Just as he moved forward, however, Harry seemed to stir from his reverie and come back to the present.

Harry tore his gaze away from the mirror and glanced around as if he was expecting someone to jump out. He whispered to the mirror, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room. Albus hesitated for a moment, before he too left the room.

Albus sat in his office for several minutes, thinking about what happened. This was an interesting mess to say the least. On the one hand, Harry had been able to pull himself away from the mirror on his own, so he didn't seem likely to go insane. However, if his intent to come back was anything to go by, he was definitely been deeply affected by it. Not that Albus could blame him… he had a sneaking suspicion that until he looked in the mirror, Harry didn't know what his parents even looked like.

Albus wondered if he should move the mirror like he intended that night. On the other hand, this was another test of character for Harry. He'd found out about Fluffy, and from what the portraits said, he was beginning to figure out what was being kept at Hogwarts. Would it be such a bad thing for him to know how the mirror worked as well? It wasn't as though Harry would try to go after the Stone himself, or anything.

As Harry didn't know how the mirror worked, not yet anyway, Albus doubted he would know any better than to come back to look at it again. Therefore, he could reasonably be expected to try to come back, most likely tomorrow night with the invisibility cloak, as he wouldn't want anyone to ask why he was sneaking around in classrooms over the holidays.

Albus decided to leave the mirror as it was for the night. He placed a locking charm on the door to the classroom, but he intended to arrive before Harry tomorrow night anyway.

_*The next night*_

He had been right that Harry would indeed return to see his parents. The next night, he waited, invisible, in the abandoned classroom. As he sat on a chair near the back of the room, the mirror standing there innocently, as if it was calling to him to into looking into it. At that second, was the sound of voices coming from the corridor outside of the room.

"It's here—just here—yes!" Harry and another boy, who he recognized immediately as Ronald Weasley, entered the room. Harry dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror. He regained the wistful expression that his face had held the night before.

Albus almost wished that Hermione Granger were there with them. She was, by all accounts, more likely to understand the mirror when she saw it. It couldn't helped, however, and there were just the two boys. Ron looked around curiously, careful to be quiet in case Filch or Mrs. Norris came.

"See?" Harry whispered.

Ron frowned at Harry's reflection. "I can't see anything."

Harry couldn't understand this. "Look! Look at them all… there are loads of them!"

"I only see you."

Albus wondered how Harry would deal with this, but Harry told Ron to stand in the spot he'd been standing in. Harry moved aside as Ron stood, looking doubtful, in front of the mirror. Ron, predictably, was awed by his reflection.

"I'm alone—but I'm different—I look older—and I'm head boy!"

"_What_?" said Harry, who had apparently thought that the mirror showed people's families. Albus could see that Harry was confused because he couldn't see what Ron could.

"I am," Ron insisted. "I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to—and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup—I'm Quidditch captain, too! D'you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it?" Harry asked. "All my family are dead—let me have another look—"

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time," Ron argued.

This was what Albus had been afraid of. Would they forget about everything but the mirror, or come to their senses, as Harry had appeared to last night?

"You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents," Harry said, and though Albus couldn't argue with him, he didn't like the way Harry pushed Ron very slightly backward.

Albus gave a silent sigh. Once again, the power of the mirror had turned friend against friend. "Don't push me!" Ron snapped, but they stopped when Albus used a spell to knock something over in the corridor.

That brought them to their senses, all right, a fact Albus was relieved to see.

"Quick!" It was Ron who grabbed the invisibility cloak and threw it over himself and Harry before Mrs. Norris rounded the corner, eyes glowing suspiciously.

Mrs. Norris, Argus Filch's cat, peered around the doorframe suspiciously. Though he was sure that the boys were wondering it, she could not see them through the cloak. After a minute, she turned and left. He smiled as Ron whispered, "This isn't safe—she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."

Harry looked plaintively back at the mirror as Ron pulled him out of the room. As soon as Dumbledore was sure that they were gone, he removed the Invisibility spell and approached the mirror. As he reached it, Argus Filch swung around the doorway.

"Aha!" he shouted. Dumbledore turned and looked at him with his eyebrows raised, pretending to look like he had been distracted from doing something. He was glad to see that Argus must have just missed Ron and Harry. When he noticed that it was the Headmaster instead of a couple students, he looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry Headmaster, I didn't realize…" Dumbledore held up his hand.

"No need, Argus." The caretaker coughed uncomfortably. Mrs. Norris rubbed against his ankles while looking scrutinizing back up at him, as if she knew that he was covering up for the two boys. Argus cleared his throat.

"Well then, headmaster, I'll be on my way now," Albus nodded mutely as he turned back into the corridor. There was a faint cackle and the sound of smashing china.

"PEEVES!" he roared, and raced off in search of the trouble-making poltergeist. Rolling his eyes, Albus turned back to the mirror and gazed ruefully at the sight that met his eyes. After standing pensively for a moment, he too departed. He decided that he would return the next night, sure that Harry would come again.

_*The next night*_

Dexter informed Albus the next evening that Harry would be visiting the mirror alone that night. Albus was therefore prepared when Harry walked into the classroom.

That is why he was sitting on a desk the following night, waiting once again for Harry to arrive. He had decided not to become invisible, but instead to face Harry and explain to him why he saw what he saw in the mirror. Sure enough, the boy rushed in, his cloak falling from his shoulders, and dashing past where he was seated. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. He smiled.

He cleared his throat. "So—back again, Harry?" Harry jumped and turned slowly. Albus smiled gently when he saw the scared look on the boy's face, as though his insides had turned to ice.

"I—I didn't see you, sir," he said, abashed.

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," Albus commented lightly smiled at him, and was pleased to see Harry looked relieved. Harry showed signs of getting up, but Albus motioned for him to stay seated and instead slipped off the desk to sit on the floor with him. "So, you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that, sir," Harry said hesitantly, and Albus could tell he was wondering whether or not he was in trouble.

"But I expect you realize by now what it does?" Albus asked, hoping for a brilliant answer.

"It—well—it shows me my family—"

"And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy." Harry looked surprised again.

"How did you know—?"

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," Albus said gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?" Harry, still confused, shook his head. I tried to think of a way to clarify it.

How about a clue then? "Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?" Harry was silent a moment as he thought it over. "It shows us what we want… whatever we want…"

Well, he was on the right track, at least. "Yes and no," Albus said quietly, wondering how he would take it. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you." Albus felt a slight pang of sadness at the thought of Lily and James staring out of the mirror at Harry.

"Ron Weasley," he continued, "who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them." Albus couldn't read Harry's expression.

"However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible." Harry looked down at the floor, twisting a corner of the cloak between his fingers. "The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry," Albus told him decisively, "and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever _do_ run across it, you will now be prepared."

He thought for a moment, wondering what else he needed to say. He could hardly tell him what the mirror was being used for, no matter how inclined he was to do so. "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that," he said finally. "Now why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

Harry nodded as he stood up, but paused. "Sir—Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"

Albus always found this particular question pointless. "Obviously you've just done so," he smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

Albus raised his eyebrows, surprised. Harry, it seemed, had a keener mind than he'd showed tonight; he just needed a bit of training. Albus considered him for a moment.

It was a simple question that deserved a simple answer. And yet it was in no way simple. The briefest glance shows him should have been.

'_I see myself,' _he thought._ 'Myself. But I am not alone. All those people who should be here, are. I see my mother, happy and free like she was supposed to be. I see her love for my father, who stands next to her, happy to be here, happy to be in this family. Free from prison. I see that me and my brother close again like we once were.'_

Dumbledore's thoughts paused here, as he looked at Harry's curious face, waiting for an answer.

_'But if the Mirror was going to show me one thing, and one thing only, it would be my sister. Ariana: laughing, playing, the opposite of that fragile, delicate creature I once knew. She would be happy, healthy, and her eyes glowing as they once did whenever she smiled. She is surrounded by people who love her, and she would love them all in return. The one thing that I desire more than anything else, however fleeting my glance, would be for her to forgive me. For her to forgive me for failing her when she needed me the most. For failing to be the one thing she needed… a big brother.'_

Albus sighs, and surveys the pupil over the top of his half-moon spectacles. The student is eleven, and could an eleven-year-old really understand what the Mirror of Erised shows him?

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks," Albus finally said, thinking of the holes in the pair he was currently wearing. It must not have made much sense to Harry, who was staring at him as if he had spoken in a different language. "One can never have enough socks," he explained. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

Albus smiled. He guessed that Harry had quite a lot to think about as he headed off to bed.

Harry nodded, though he didn't look completely convinced, and after a moment he turned and left the room. Albus smiled and turned back to face the mirror. He hadn't been telling the truth, but it had been quite a personal question. In the mirror, Dumbledore walked closer to it, his reflection growing with every step he took nearer. When he was only a few inches from the looking glass, his feet stopped moving and his eyes stared into image before him.

Albus' face turned to a smile as he looked at the scene of his family, happy and reunited once again, as the same time tears welled up in his eyes.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, "If I thought that I could, I would go back and change everything. But I know better."

Dumbledore closed his eyes, turned his back on the looking glass and then with firm steps walked out of the room slamming the door behind him. He had to be strong, if Harry could do it so must he.

He remembered his own advice to Harry. _It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live._ He had to put all that behind him and stop thinking about what could have been.

**_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt onwoshi_**

**_I show not your face but your heart's desire_**

The sight gripped his heart with hope and sadness beyond belief. There weren't any riches, domination, or cowardice in what Harry saw. A tear fell down the teacher's crooked nose when he realized that he could now indeed truly believe that Harry did have what it took to save them all from Voldemort. For the boy could look into the Mirror of Erised, of desire, and see only the family that he had lost… he saw love.

As the professor went to sleep that night at last, his heart ached for the boy, and for himself. He could understand the hold that it held over Harry. He had seen that love before and he too had it taken away from him. It appeared that he and Harry had more in common than he had first thought. It seemed appropriate that in the future, they would stand and fight together for the people that they cared about as well as for the ones that had already fought and lost.

Maybe they'd fall short, maybe they'd never come close, but they would fight. He knew that they would win; for all that they had never been allowed to have and wanted for everyone else.

(Sorry for taking so long. My computer was infected again and I had to get a new one. So I hope that a long chapter would make up for it. Please review and tell me what you think and what part I should write next.)


	11. Punishments

**Chapter 11: Punishments**

"Good evening, Dumbledore," came a polite voice one day several weeks after Christmas.

This was all it took for Albus to focus his entire attention on the man right behind his chair. "Good evening, Armando," he replied gravely. "And how is our young friend today?"

"Should've known that'd be the first thing you'd ask about," Armando Dippet replied with a chuckle, "Well, what can I say? Things are going pretty normally for the boy. Harry's doing well in his classes."

"Ah, that is good to hear. And Quidditch?"

"From what I've heard, the boy's a natural."

"Good, good. And Mister Weasley and Miss Granger?" Albus asked, wanting to know every last detail.

"Still friends with Harry, and oddly enough with each other. Though they argue every chance they get."

Dumbledore smiled at that. "Anything unusual lately?"

"Well…" Armando began slightly, "There is one little problem."

Albus sat up straight in his throne-like chair and asked quickly, "What? Is something wrong?"

"Well, it seems as though they have finally figured out what's beneath the trapdoor, Albus," he answered.

All the other portraits let out gasps of surprise, even some of outrage.

"How?"

"When did this happen?"

"Did they tell anyone else?"

"How could they…?"

Albus waved them down before turning his attention back to the previous Headmaster, "Armando…?"

"How am I supposed to know? I overheard them talking about it this morning and I also overheard that they think that it's Severus Snape who's plotting to steal it!" Armando told them.

That surprised Albus… but only for a moment. He then asked, "Why do they think that?"

"Well, Miss Granger said that she saw Snape at the Quidditch match and they think that he was the one trying to throw Harry off the broom. But we have more important things to worry about. Students aren't supposed to know about the stone… I mean what if they try to go after it? You can't admit that it isn't a very tempting object…"

"Oh, I highly doubt that they'll do something like that," Albus said pleasantly. "I'm sure that they know that the stone is protected by many spells and enchantments. They won't go after it."

"Well, I blame you for this Albus," Armando said. "After all, I know that you've been encouraging this all along."

Several weeks went by without great event. Albus kept an eye on things as usual, with the portraits daily reports on Harry and Severus's suspicions on Quirenius. So far nothing progressed any further, and life went on as usual at Hogwarts. That is, until one day, when Armando changed everything with just five words: "Hagrid has a dragon egg!"

Mass chaos broke out among the other portraits.

"Where in the bloody hell could he have gotten his hands on a dragon egg?"

"The Ministry will have his head if they find out!"

"I always said he'd be trouble!"

"He's bound for Azkaban now. A year at least. Maybe two!"

"How irresponsible!"

"_Quiet_," Albus said loudly. "Armando, are you sure? You're _quite_ sure it's a dragon egg?"

"Why would I joke about this?" Armando snapped. "I overheard the trio talking about it. Apparently they were able to weasel information about the stone out of Hagrid. They now have an idea what's beneath the trapdoor. And then all of a sudden they were talking about Hagrid getting the dragon egg."

"And Hagrid told them what else, beside Fluffy, is protecting the stone?" Albus said amazed that Hagrid would come out and tell the kids such information.

"Well, he didn't tell them _exactly_ what's there. But he told them who helped put up protections. Now they know which of the teachers helped with the guarding of the stone."

"I see. I didn't think that Hagrid would tell them… at least not everything. And now we have a dragon to worry about. Hagrid always said that he wanted one…" Alarm bells suddenly went off in Albus' brain. "Did he say where he got the egg?"

Armando rolled his eyes. "Dumbledore, I'm not dense. I _do_ know that you want me to tell you any information you'd find useful. No, they didn't mention it."

"I have to say this is something that not even **I** expected. Is there anything else you need to say?" he asked.

"Yes, how am I supposed to keep an eye on them when they visit Hagrid?" Armando demanded. "They go down to that hut at least once a week, and who knows what they could be talking about? I can't tell you about anything because I can't hear them when they're at Hagrid's!"

Albus sighed, "Dear, dear, Armando, that's not like you at all. What's happening to your manners?"

Armando looked distinctly put out. "Don't lecture me on manners right now Dumbledore! Now what about listening when they visit Hagrid?"

Phineas Nigellus, sat up straight in his chair and said, "You're becoming quite nosy yourself, Armando. Who would have guessed you'd like tagging along after a couple of Gryffindors?"

Armando ignored him, intent on Albus's answer.

"I must say, I hadn't thought of that," Albus admitted. "There are generally so many places in this castle that contain portraits that I don't consider the places without."

"Send Hagrid a portrait!" Armando suggested at once. "Today, if possible."

"He does have that photograph of himself and his father—would it work with a photograph?" he asked, frowning slightly as he looked up at Armando. "If I send a portrait, Hagrid will wonder what it's for, and you know he's never taken kindly to you ever since you expelled him."

Armando scowled, then mastered himself, before saying, "Well, I suppose it might work. I can't appear in photographs, but I could perhaps listen just beyond the frame… yes."

"Good. Now then—keep your ears open. Tell me what they're going to do about the dragon."

_*A few days later*_

"The egg hatched!" Armando called out one afternoon.

Dumbledore dropped his quill and asked, "Are you sure?"

"It hatched during break this morning," Armando answered, and he seemed annoyed at Albus for doubting his word. "As far as I can tell, Hagrid sent Harry a note that it was hatching during breakfast, but Hermione insisted they went to Herbology, so they ran down during break."

Albus sat back in his chair, and stroked a cooing Fawkes. To buy time before making a decision, he asked, "What does Harry think of all this?"

Phineas raised an eyebrow, and inspected Dumbledore. "Don't you think this amounts to a bit of an obsession, Dumbledore? Harry this, Harry that… What do you care, anyway? He's just a scrawny first year who had talented parents."

"Phineas…"

"Oh, all right. There was that tiny matter with the prophecy, but still—"

"Phineas I told you before that I have my reasons and leave it at that," Albus reminded the portrait. He turned back to Armando and asked, "Is there anything else?"

The stuffy portrait sighed, "All right, all right. What Harry thinks. He's worried of course. I'm sure he knows the whole affair is illegal. The Weasley boy must have known, and probably filled him in."

"And yet they're not willing to turn Hagrid in," Albus mused. "Another show of loyalty to his friends. That's good to hear. Yes, quite good."

Armando snorted delicately. "Yes, that's if the Ministry doesn't catch him. Just failing to inform someone marks him as a bit of accomplice, doesn't it?"

Albus waved that remark aside. "You're thinking of the laws as they apply to adults, Armando. The Ministry has very little authority at Hogwarts. Rules tend to be enough for students." He frowned, and glanced out the window at the grounds. He could just see the gamekeeper's hut, and a tendril of smoke rose from the chimney against the sunset. He came to a decision. "Hagrid is a very able gamekeeper, and I don't want to do anything that could get him in trouble with the Ministry. I'm going to leave the situation be for a few days. Let me know if Harry or his friends try to persuade Hagrid to get rid of the dragon."

"Oh, I'm sure that they'll try! But you know Hagrid—the way that he talks about some of his monsters… it's like he thinks it's their bunny rabbits or something else that's completely harmless!" Armando called out.

"Yes, this is a true test for them," Albus said mildly. "Now, I believe you'd better get back to watching Harry. Thank you for the information."

It was nearly a week later that Armando reported to Albus that Harry came up with definite plan to get rid of the troublesome dragon. Albus hadn't been expecting it; after a few days, he was a little pessimistic that Harry would come up with any sort of solution.

"Any news?" he asked Armando who was seen bobbing around the other portraits that evening.

"Well…" when the infuriating portrait could draw out the silence no further, he smiled. "They seem to have thought up a way to get rid Norbert. Probably a good thing, too, because from the sound of it, the cabin nearly caught fire on Monday."

"Norbert?" Albus repeated.

"That's what Hagrid named the dragon," Armando explained.

A small smile came Albus's his face as he shook his head. "Did he say what kind of dragon that Norbert is?"

"I believe that it's a Norwegian Ridgeback."

"Oh, no," Dumbledore moaned. Young Ridgebacks develop the ability to shoot flame earlier than any other breeds of dragon and are ranked third on the list of most dangerous dragons. (The first being a Hungarian Horntail.)

The other portraits let out similar moans as well as they listened. "Want me to hurry his report along, Dumbledore?" One of them asked, drawing a wand. "He's taking forever."

Albus waved aside the proffered assistance as Armando looked, scandalized, at the brandished wand.

"All right, I'm hurrying! They're writing to Weasley's brother in Romania who works with a dragon colony, and they're sending the little monster to him," he said in one breath.

"Ah, good," Albus said, leaning back in his chair again, relieved.

"Yes," the portrait answered, looking askance at the wizard who'd drawn the wand on him. "It's about time, really. Apparently that Slytherin rat is aware of the dragon as well."

Albus nearly smiled. Most of the portraits never referred to young Draco Malfoy by name if they could help it, finding the boy unspeakably rude and arrogant. Of course, this was merely a front for how attached to Harry they had gotten over the past few months.

"Well, keep me informed," Albus said pleasantly as Armando gradually couldn't help from showing how impatient he was to get back to Gryffindor Tower. "Until you bring me your report tomorrow night."

As it turned out, the night worked out for the departure of Hagrid's scaly charge fell to a week from Saturday at midnight. Albus made a note on his calendar to look after things personally that night. By the time the night came, however, things had become complicated enough that Albus imagined Harry must be getting very nervous about this venture. Ron had been bitten by the baby dragon while helping Hagrid to feed it. Draco Malfoy somehow found out exactly when it was supposed to leave, and told Severus, who in turn informed Argus. It seemed that more Hogwarts staff than Albus himself would be out and about that night.

"You really ought to just summon them all to your office and give them detention for the rest of the year," Phineas said disapprovingly as Albus prepared to leave.

"I'll take care of it, thank you, Phineas," Albus informed him as he cast the invisibility charm on himself, and left.

He caught up with Harry and Hermione as they were entering the castle, a heavy crate containing the dragon between them. It was all very awkward beneath Harry's invisibility cloak, and their feet were visible several times as the cloak shifted.

It was as they reached the base of the Astronomy Tower that Malfoy made his appearance for the night, along with a rather ruffled Professor McGonagall. Albus stifled a laugh wondering what his Transfiguration professor had been doing up at midnight. He didn't think she'd caught rumor of the situation; the infamous rivalry between herself and Severus would have ensured that.

"Detention! And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how _dare_ you!" she barked.

Draco struggled in her grasp. "You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming—he's got a dragon!"

Albus raised his eyebrows at the scene thoughtfully. Draco Malfoy was telling the truth, of course, but Albus doubted Minerva would realize this. But then again, the boy should've known better than to wander the castle like this. He glanced at the place where Harry and Hermione had shrunk into the shadows with the dragon's crate. They looked wary, but also slightly smug.

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies? Come on—I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!" Minerva and Malfoy disappeared around the corner, which left Albus free to follow Harry and Hermione up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.

When they were finally up the stairs, the two students set the crate down with an almighty sigh and threw off the cloak. Instead of appearing tired, however, Hermione did a funny sort of jig.

"Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!"

"Don't," advised Harry, who seemed to be slightly more winded than Hermione.

It was a short wait until Charlie Weasley's friends appeared. After that, they helped to strap Norbert's crate to a harness attracted to the brooms, and their problem literally flew out the window and out of sight.

Harry and Hermione seemed so happy that their troubles were gone that they went skipping down the stairs—almost literally. Albus shook his head ruefully behind them. He was quite sure that the absence of the invisibility cloak would be noticed eventually. And—

"Well, well, well. We _are _in trouble," came the voice of Filch, echoing up the tower.

Albus picked up the fluid material of the cloak and tucked it into his pocket. He reached the bottom of the stairs in time to see Filch leading the two first-years away to Professor McGonagall's office. Shaking his head, he reminded himself that he couldn't do everything for them. They deserved the punishment if they were careless enough to leave the invisibility cloak behind. He could, after all, only interfere so much.

Minerva strode briskly into his office the next morning as he was feeding Fawkes.

"Professor Dumbledore," she began.

Albus, knowing very well what she'd come about, looked up from feeding Fawkes. "Pleasant morning, Minerva. Sleep well?"

"No, I did not," she answered sharply. "I thought you should know that I found Miss Granger and Misters Potter, Longbottom, and Malfoy out of bed and wandering the halls last night."

Albus turned around, trying to look surprised. "Ah. And—what sort of punishments did you give them?"

She looked down her sharp nose at him with furious disapproval. "You knew about this, didn't you, Albus?"

He blinked. "Knew about this? Well, I—can't say I…" he trailed off as she continued to glare at him, nostrils flaring. He knew that there was no point in keeping this from her. "Alright, I might have been following them."

She raised an eyebrow. "I knew it as soon as I detected that disillusionment charm. I only gave them one detention apiece because I thought you might want some input on the matter."

"That's all? I could have sworn I saw some difference in the House points when I passed the hourglasses later that night." Albus turned back to feeding Fawkes as the phoenix nipped at his hand. "I think one detention should do it. They didn't have any mischief in mind. Well, Mr. Malfoy might have, but I think one detention will suffice to discourage all of them from trying it again."

"Then do you mind telling me what were they doing? They didn't have an answer when I asked them."

"They got rid of a troublesome dragon for me."

"A dragon?" screeched Minerva.

"Hagrid recently acquired it, and Harry and Hermione made plans with Ron to send it off to Charlie Weasley in Romania." Albus returned Minerva's stern look with a cheery smile.

She sighed. "I'm not even going to ask how you know all this. I suppose I'll have them do lines for me, then."

"Oh, no," Albus answered, finally having finished feeding Fawkes. "I intend to have them help Hagrid with a small task in the forest for me."

Minerva eyes widened at this and she began telling him off. "Dumbledore, they're only first years! Such a thing would be most irregular even as punishment for an older student. Shouldn't I just assign them to help Argus with some cleaning?"

Albus shook his head. "Hagrid will be there to protect them. And I do think that if Harry is anything like his father, he needs more than lines to make him think he did wrong, or he'll start thinking that there's nothing wrong with breaking the rules."

Minerva sighed again, and shook her head before leaving. "Have it your way, then, Dumbledore."

Through the eyes of Armando, Albus watched Harry closely through the next week. The portrait reported that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were being shunned by the other Gryffindors, and even by the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, for all the points they'd lost. Harry was bearing the brunt of it all, and had sworn to stop meddling in things because of it.

"The boy even offered to resign from Quidditch he feels so awful," Armando grumbled. "And it's not fair, he was just trying to help a friend."

"Life is never fair, Armando," Albus answered, to which Armando huffed and left without a proper goodbye.

Their detention was tomorrow evening. Albus took the opportunity to fold up Harry's invisibility cloak and return it to him, hiding it under the covers at the foot of his bed, along with a note that read:

_Just in case_.

He'd made the decision to stop Quirenius himself, as close to the end of term as possible for the sake of the students. But he had a nagging suspicion that things wouldn't go as planned.


	12. After Exams

**Chapter 12: After Exams**

The next morning, Dilys Derwent was waiting for Albus, pacing agitatedly in her portrait. "What took you so long?" she demanded when Albus finally entered and greeted Fawkes.

Albus looked up in surprise. "Dilys, what are you doing here at this time of day? I asked you to follow Harry this week."

"He's in class don't worry. But never mind that now, we have an emergency!" Dilys exclaimed. "Last night, in the forest, on that ridiculous detention that you wanted them to do, Harry says he saw You-Know-Who drinking the unicorn blood!"

Albus blinked. "He he alright?" he demanded. That wasn't supposed to have happened. Harry was just supposed to have learned about the dark uses unicorn blood could have, and what an evil thing it was to kill one.

"He's fine," Dilys replied impatiently. "The centaur named Firenze came and put a stop to it before You-Know-Who could kill the boy."

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be, given that I wasn't there," she answered with a pointed look. "He and his friends were discussing it in the Gryffindor common room for hours after they got back."

"What exactly did he see?" Albus asked quickly.

"From what he said to his friends, he saw a cloaked figure drinking the blood from the dead unicorn. And he said his scar began to hurt him."

"His scar hurt?" Albus repeated surprised.

"That's what I said, isn't it? He's a clever one, he's already figured out that it hurt because You-Know-Who was there. And that it's him who's after the stone," Dilys fussed worriedly with her wand. "Honestly, I can't believe how much danger you've put him in, Dumbledore. Really, he's just a child."

Albus nodded, feeling worried himself. "Watch him closely this next week, Dilys. I'm going to return the stone to Nicholas at the end of term, but if he's in any danger, I want you to come and get me immediately. If Voldemort gets the Stone, the first person he's going to go after is Harry, so be on guard."

Dilys nodded. "You're lucky that portraits don't really need to sleep, Dumbledore. I've never seen a child with such a gift for wandering around after hours."

Albus allowed himself a small smile. "That's because you've never followed a student before, Dilys."

_*One week later*_

Albus Dumbledore was relaxing in his office, drinking a cup of tea, enjoying the warm day. At that moment, the students were finishing their end-of-year exams in various classrooms all over the school. He always felt a sense of personal fulfillment during exams time. All the students, putting everything that they had learned during the year into play, and being surprised at how much they knew.

Truthfully however, he missed teaching them himself. Thirty-eight years had passed since Armando Dippet had retired and he had been appointed Headmaster in his place, but some part of him, a rather large part, still wanted to be in that sunny classroom on the first floor, teaching Transfiguration.

He sighed contentedly, gazing out of the large window at the grounds below. Yes, exams must be over, for the first students were beginning to stream out of the front doors. It was a beautiful day, with a cloudless sky reflected in the lake with a bright sun shining down on them all. Dumbledore began identifying students one by one, watching over them. He chuckled as he saw the Weasley twins, so easy to see with their red hair, sprint to the edge of the lake to tease the squid. It apparently wanted to enjoy the nice day as well, basking in the shallows at the water's edge.

He shifted his gaze, looking for one student in particular. He found him with his friends, as always. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger were just leaving the castle. Escaping the press of the hundreds of students, they wandered down to settle down in the grass in the shade of a tall oak tree. Dumbledore smiled, remembering that tree all too well. James, had often sat there with his friends after Quidditch matches or exams. It was a very old tree… almost as old as he was.

He was so intent watching the various little clumps of relaxing students that the owl's arrival took him quite by surprise. He jumped a little when it flew in through the open skylight, landing on his desk and clacking its beak authoritatively.

The letter was brief, asking that Dumbledore come to London to advise Fudge in a meeting with him and the other members of the Wizengamot. The meeting was scheduled for 10:30 that night; which meant that he had a few hours to get there. Looking out the window once more, Dumbledore decided to fly. After all, he wouldn't be needed here for at least the rest of the day, and it was so hot a day that even above the clouds it would be comfortably warm.

At that moment, Minerva had just barged it, no doubt wanting to finish their conversation from that morning about the possibility that the Weasley twins had cheated on their examinations again.

"I'm sorry Minerva," Albus said before she had the chance to speak. "But I'm afraid that the Minster needs me at a meeting tonight."

"A meeting?" she repeated surprised.

Albus sighed and showed the letter to her. "It's for a meeting, and he says it's urgent," he told Professor McGonagall. "I suppose I'd better go, but I'm not going to floo or apparate if he insists on calling me for every little thing. If you could tell Hagrid to call a thestral—"

"What about the Weasleys' exams?" she demanded. "The answers are worded exactly the same, for heaven's sake!"

"You issued them with the standard anti-cheating quills?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then I do think it's just a coincidence, Minerva. I mean, I don't think the two of them have spent more than a detention's length of time apart from each other since they were born. They're bound to think alike as well as they act alike."

She thought about that for a moment. "I suppose it would explain their annoying tendency to finish each other's sentences. Very well. I'll have Hagrid call a thestral for you, Headmaster."

He nodded his thanks. "I'll probably be back late tonight. I'll be getting there relatively late by Fudge's standards, but he'll still probably want to go over whatever problem he's been having several times over."

_*A few hours later*_

It was an exceedingly pleasant flight. Dumbledore flew over the rough terrain around the castle, following the contours of the empty land, but when he began to see signs of inhabitancy, he had to put an invisibility charm on himself and the thestral_. 'Sometimes,'_ he thought to himself, _'I wished that there was no need for the strict rules of secrecy.' _But rules were rules, and he had to follow them.

As the countryside below became more and more orderly, fields and villages rather than forests and cliffs, he angled his thestral upwards, flying up to where his only company was geese and the occasional airplane. Up here, he looked down and saw the land as if it were a patchwork quilt. A few tiny clouds, so small that they had been invisible from the ground, floated around him. He teased them into spiral shapes with his wand, laughing like a child. Oh, it was so good to be alone and enjoy himself once in a while.

All too soon, London sprawled beneath him in a tangled grey carpet. It stretched endlessly in all directions from its hub of office buildings and skyscrapers. He began to descend into the noise and smell of the city, and landed eventually in a dank alley off of a busy road.

Dismounting and removing the invisibility charm, he startled an alley cat from under the dustbins, but no one else saw him. He was even early. He looked around, and quickly found what he was looking for; a small, battered-looking telephone booth tucked away in a dark corner at the very rear of the alley. Smiling, he patted the thestral's scaly neck, thanked it for the ride, and told it to return home. He waited until his ride had flown up into the sky; its outline illumined against the moon for a moment… and then disappeared.

Sighing, he stepped into it the telephone booth, ready to another boring meeting, and closed the rickety sliding door. He knew the number by heart, having been forced to come here often in the past.

_Six, two, four, four, two._

A pleasant female voice answered, but not from the receiver, which was still on the hook. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Albus Dumbledore, meeting with Minister Fudge," he pronounced clearly.

"Oh," said the voice cheerfully. "What a pleasant surprise. I'll inform the Minister that you're here right away."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "Wasn't he expecting me?" A feeling of dread gnawed now at the pit of his stomach, all the joy from his flight forgotten. "Didn't he send me an owl this afternoon, asking me to come?"

"No," said the voice slowly, as though she was checking her notes. "No, I'm sorry, sir. The Minister hasn't sent any owls at all today."

Before she could finish her sentence, Dumbledore was out of the booth and back out onto the street, his mind was going at twice the speed he himself was.

As soon as he was far enough away from the Ministry building, he dissapparated outside the Hogwarts gates.

_*Hogwarts*_

He reapparated as close to the grounds of the school as he could, and raced back up to the castle, thinking about what was going on.

It was Quirrell, it had to be. Quirrell needed him out of the way, so he impersonated one of Fudge's letters to get him to leave the castle. Which could only mean one thing… that was that Quirrell would try to get the Stone tonight if not this very second.

He'd given Quirrell enough time to come around of his own accord. And he knew, too, that Severus had been trying to find out what the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had been up to, trying to make sure he wasn't under the Imperius Curse or being possessed.

All evidence pointed to the fact that Quirrell, while acting under Voldemort's orders, certainly knew what he was doing, and was not under the influence of any spells. Despite all that, Albus hoped he wouldn't have to kill his teacher. He needed to be stopped, but he hated taking life he could help it.

In the Entrance Hall, he nearly bowled two first years over, before he skidded to a stop. They were both panting, and hurrying off in the direction of the owlry, but stopped dead when they saw him.

He knew a moment of relief as he recognized Ron and Hermione; surely they would not be here if Harry was in danger; but then he realized that Ron was leaning on Hermione for support, and sporting a heavy nosebleed. Hermione was hardly any better, her robes were torn and she was gasping for breath as though she had just run a marathon.

They both looked terrified.

And Harry wasn't with them.

He knew at once where the boy had gone. Albus needed only to look at their flushed, sweaty faces to know what was going on. And suddenly, the situation was a lot more serious than a mere confrontation between a headmaster and dangerous Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. "Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer as he sprinted up the stairs toward the third floor.

The next instant, he was pushing open the doors to the third-floor corridor, making Fluffy quiet with a single stern word. The trapdoor opened as soon as he flicked his wand at it, and two long strides carried him out of the reach of the Devil's Snare.

The brooms were missing from the key room but a simple summoning charm worked much quicker anyway. Fortunately, McGonagall's giant chess set obeyed his command to stand aside and let him pass.

The troll was unconscious in the next chamber. Dumbledore didn't know if it was Harry, or the other intruder who had subdued him. Nor did he care. In the next room, Dumbledore merely waved his wand and the black fire parted a way for him. He ran through the leaping black flames into the final room.

When he reached the room that held the Mirror of Erised, he stopped dead unable to believe what he was seeing. For a brief moment he thought that his heart had stopped. He didn't know whom he had been expecting, but who it was took him aback.

On the steps opposite him, below the Mirror of Erised, Quirrell was grappling with Harry, who was lying on the ground, with Quirrell's hands around his throat. Harry's eyes were clenched tightly shut and he looked like he was in pain, but not so much as his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Quirrell was shrieking and batting at Harry with hands so burnt and blistered that they looked like a pair of melted rubber gloves.

"Master, I cannot hold him—my hands—my hands!"

They turned around and Dumbledore gasped. Quirrell's turban was gone, and Voldemort's face was revealed on the back of his head. The professor was pinning Harry to the ground, one hand around the boy's neck and his wand at the ready, some deadly curse clearly on the tip of his tongue—but before Albus could do anything—

Harry, clearly acting on intuition alone, touched Quirrell's face.

Quirrell let out a terrible scream. His face was scalded as well: a clear outline of a small hand stood out lividly upon it.

Harry's eyes closed in pain…

"KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" Voldemort screamed in a harsh, ice-cold voice, was a hideous, misshapen face, with gleaming red eyes and no nose at all.

Hearing Voldemort screaming those words were what freed Dumbledore from his shock. "Harry!" he called out as he raced across the room. Albus finally reached them, just as Voldemort's spirit lost its hold on Quirrell entirely, the face disappearing from the back of his head. He pushed himself between Harry and Quirrell, forcing them roughly apart, and both collapsed—motionless.

Dumbledore caught Harry before he hit the floor.

Was he too late? Harry looked too still now, his head rolling back on his neck. "Harry!" Dumbledore cried lifting the child's head up gently. Behind him, Quirrell was suddenly as silent as Harry, but Dumbledore had turned his full attention on the boy in his arms. "Harry!" he called again, shaking him more roughly than before, with more urgency. But there was no response.

"Wake up, please Harry," he urged, gently slapping his face, wishing for nothing more than for Harry to open his eyes. He reached for Harry wrist, and nearly sobbed in relief when he found a pulse—a very weak and faint pulse but definitely a beating one under his fingers.

Running footsteps made him look up and grip Harry tighter in defense, but it was only McGonagall and Snape. They stopped short when they saw Harry, and McGonagall gasped in horror. "Albus! What happened here? Granger and Weasley told us that… he isn't…?" Dumbledore shook his head.

"No, he's alive, but he's in bad shape," he answered her as he stood up, lifting Harry. "I need to take him up to the hospital wing." For the first time, he looked down at Quirrell. "Can you take him up, too?" he said to the others. "Keep a close eye on him."

He started toward the exit, but was stopped by Minerva's gasp.

"Headmaster!" cried a startled Snape. "He's dead!"

Dumbledore turned to look, and got a shock. Voldemort's face had vanished completely. It was just the back of Quirrell's head, complete with dark, thinning hair and an uneven bald spot. The burns were still there, though, stark against death-pallored skin. His face was frozen in an anguished scream, eyes wide and staring. His hands were burnt into crabbed claws, reaching for something beyond his grasp.

When Voldemort had fled, he left Quirrell to die.

Showing not the slightest bit of mercy or pity for his servants—was what ultimately killed him.

He hurried as fast as he could to the hospital wing. Poppy took one glance at the Harry, and then rushed around getting healing potions for him. After a tense hour in which Albus helped the healer in any way he could, she informed him the boy would live, but that he wasn't going to wake up anytime soon.

Just as Albus was about to leave, the Sorcerer's Stone caught Dumbledore's eye, glinting from where it was caught, still tightly inside Harry's fist. In light of what had happened, Albus had completely forgotten all about the stone. He stared at if for a moment… emotions erupting inside him like fireworks. Fear that Harry would die, anger at himself for letting Harry get into such danger in the first place, but most of all a over-whelming pride to such a degree that he had never felt before was what was overpowering everything else.

He waited until he was sure that Poppy had gone back to her office for more supplies before he reached over and firmly, but gently, took the stone from Harry's death-like grip."Good for you, my boy," he murmured to Harry, brushing the boy's hair away from his face fondly. "You did well."

Once he was sure that Harry was going to make a full recovery, and had assured his friends Ron and Hermione, who both were hysterical, that he was going to just fine did he leave the castle. And headed directly to Nicholas Flamel's manor.

He was greeted by a tired looking house-elf, who rushed off to fetch her master and mistress at Albus' appearance.

Dumbledore sat in the parlor, rolling a set of multi-colored stones around in his hand. He felt as old and tired as he was, but when he heard the Flamels enter the room, he looked up and forced a smiled to his friends.

"Fascinating things, these are," he said, indicating the colorful stones in his hand. "Alchemy may be an outdated art, but some of it shouldn't be forgotten. Like these. Even if they didn't harness the elements like they were meant to, they really are quite beautiful." He lightly set the stones down on the dark, polished wood of the table, next to his hat, and stood up.

"Albus! What the blazes d'you mean by dropping by at two o'clock in the morning!" Nicholas asked through a yawn in his a dressing gown.

"Good morning, Nicholas," Albus greeted him gravely. "The three of us need to talk." The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye dimmed as he took out the stone. "About this. I'm afraid that I have some rather grave business to discuss with you."

"Really? What is it, Albus?" Nicholas asked, suddenly wide awake. "Did something happen?"

Dumbledore sighed, "I'm afraid so. I've come to talk to you about the Stone. Apparently, it wasn't as safe at Hogwarts as we had hoped. Yesterday, it was nearly stolen." He paused at the alarmed look on Perenelle's face, but she motioned him to go on. "Lord Voldemort has apparently roamed the country as a sort of a wraith since his downfall ten years ago, possessing various creatures and persons wherever he went. It seems he has, in fact, been possessing one of the Hogwarts teachers since last summer. This teacher, Professor Quirrell, attempted to steal the stone last night."

"But what happened?" Nicolas Flamel's throat sounded quite constricted as he asked.

"Well," continued Dumbledore, "He managed to break past all of the protections that were in place around the stone—all of them, except the very last one. He could not get the stone out of the Mirror of Erised, for he wished to use it for wealth and power and immortality for his master, not for good. And as he stood there trying to find a way to get the stone, one of the students arrived."

Dumbledore ran a weary hand through his beard. "That innocent boy nearly died tonight because of your stone." He paused for their exclamations of worry and disbelief, before he continued, "This student, only a first-year, had also managed to make his way past all of the enchantments protecting the stone. He knew that someone was trying to get it for Voldemort, and because he wanted to save the stone, and not use it, he was able to retrieve it from the Mirror. Unfortunately, Voldemort discover it, and attacked the student."

Dumbledore heard a gasp from Perenelle. "But Albus, that's terrible!" She shuddered. "What… what happened? Did the student… did he live? Is he alright?"

Dumbledore sat down, and pressed the tips of his index fingers together as rested his chin upon his thumbs. "Yes. You see, the student had had the help of friends to make it past the enchantments, and he had sent them to summon me. Then, he managed to keep Voldemort—well, I guess I should say Professor Quirrell away from the stone until I arrived. He nearly died;" Dumbledore gave a wry smile, "and, I suppose, if it hadn't been that he was Harry Potter, he probably would have."

This time, both of the Flamels let out audible gasps. "Oh, dear…" moaned Perenelle and noticed that Nicolas was a sight paler than normal.

"And this," Dumbledore continued, "is the reason why I'm here. I'm afraid the stone isn't safe at Hogwarts, and if we continue to keep it there, more students' lives may be endangered. I can't, I'm afraid, recommend any place in which it would be safe. I would feel best…" here he hesitated before going on watching both of their horrified expressions.

"I've found the person who was after it, Nicholas. It was Lord Voldemort himself." He looked very seriously at both of them. "Consider, Nicholas, Perenelle, how many times this sort of thing has happened over both of your lifetimes. There have always been conflicts over this Stone. You cannot pretend there haven't been. I am not going to keep it safe for you any longer. You can take it back, with the warning that I very nearly was not able to protect it, even at Hogwarts."

Nicholas took the stone in silence, and looked at Perenelle. She seemed in shock.

"I would recommend that the stone be destroyed. I think," Albus said quietly, "that it is high time for you to consider your reasons for keeping the stone, and if they are worth the consequences."

Nicolas Flamel was silent for a moment. "Yes, I see… oh dear, this is rather difficult, isn't it…?" He threw a look at Perenelle, but she didn't respond; rather, she looked like she couldn't respond.

"Of course," Dumbledore hastened to go on, "it should be your decision. The two of you ought to discuss it between yourselves and make a decision based upon what you feel is right."

"Yes… yes, I think we'd better." Flamel's voice became a little stronger as he spoke. "We'll talk about it, Albus. But it might take some time for us to decide."

"I understand," said Dumbledore. "I'll leave you now; I must be getting back to Hogwarts anyway. And do take your time. This is a big decision to make after all and I would hate to see you make the wrong choice." He stood, picked up his hat and nodded to each of them in turn. "Goodbye, Nicolas. Goodbye Perenelle. May we meet again under happier circumstances." And with that, he disapparated.

_*The next day*_

Dumbledore received a letter the very next afternoon.

Dear Albus,

You've always said that to the well-organized mind, death is but the next greatest adventure; Perenelle and I talked about this for hours after you left and we decided that this is an adventure that we are overdue for. We want you to destroy the stone, immediately. Too many people are endangered by its continued existence, and we have enough of the Elixir set aside so that we will have time to make sure everything is how it should be before our time in this world is over. The end must come for all living things… and we've realized that we both have grown very tired, and that it's about time that we deserve that rest. And thank you, Albus, for all you have done for us this past year.

Your faithful friend,

Nicolas Flamel.

P.S. Thanks for the advice on getting something nice for Perenelle for Christmas. She started talking to me again.

Albus smiled to himself. He put down the letter and got up to stare out the window, lost in his thoughts. He would truly miss Nicolas… though he knew it was for the best.

Life is precious… but everyone must move on sooner or later. He wondered when the day would come when he too will have to leave.

(Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please read and review.)


	13. End of Term

**Chapter 13: End of Term**

Albus was there when Harry had finally woken up. He'd requested that Poppy keep him informed on the boy's recovery, and arrived just in time to see the boy opening his eyes on the afternoon she'd predicted he would wake.

"Good afternoon, Harry," he greeted pleasantly as he watch Harry blink and stare at him.

Harry looked baffled for a moment. Then his eyes filled with panic. "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick—"

Albus nearly smiled. "Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times. Quirrell does not have the Stone."

The green eyes were full of confusion once more at those words. "Then who does? Sir, I—"

"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."

The boy finally looked around him for the first time, and Albus stifled a laugh at the thought that he hadn't even looked to see where he was before launching into his questions about the Stone. He seemed especially confused about the sweets and cards piled on the bedside table, and Albus felt obliged to explain: "Tokens from your friends and admirers."

But his words just seemed to lose Harry even more so Albus went on by saying, "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows."

Yes, you couldn't keep anything quiet at Hogwarts.

"I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a lavatory seat." Albus had to fight a laugh at that. "No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madame Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

Harry seemed to have relaxed slightly but then asked, "How long have I been in here?"

Albus was pleased to note that, while Harry certainly seemed happy that the whole school no longer seemed to hate him, he stayed focused with the events he'd missed. "Three days," he answered. "Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."

_'As was I,'_ he added though he didn't say it to Harry.

But even this would not deter him. "But sir, the Stone—"

"I see you are not to be distracted," Albus observed matter-of-factly. "Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say."

"You got there? You got Hermione's owl?" he asked anxiously.

Albus shook his head. "We must have crossed in midair. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you—"

"It was _you_," Harry said in realization.

So the boy had been just a little aware of things before he passed out completely. "I feared I might be too late," Albus admitted, hoping to impress Harry just how serious the situation had been.

"You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer—"

"Not the Stone, boy," Albus said, feeling slightly exasperated that Harry seemed to think that the stone was more important than his own life, "you—the effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed." Albus said this with a sense of relief, recalling the conversation he and Nicholas had had just a few days ago.

"Destroyed? But your friend—Nicholas Flamel—"

"Oh, you know about Nicholas?" Albus asked surprise, but delighted. He'd have to reprimand his portraits later for not informing him of Harry's discovery. Still, he was very pleased at he was able to learn as much as possible. "You _did_ do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicholas and I have had a little chat and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?" Harry asked hesitantly, looking at him out of those wide, relatively innocent green eyes.

Albus gave him a small smile. "They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die." Harry looked so astonish that Albus felt that he just had to say, "To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicholas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, _very_ long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

_'Not only that,'_ he thought to himself. _'But I know that Nicolas decided that it would be better to not have eternal life—if it kept Tom from returning. And if I know him as well as I think I do, he wouldn't want to be the owner of an object that almost got a student killed.'_

He paused, thinking of all the trouble that had come of the Stone. "You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all—the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

There was a short silence in which Harry seemed to think very hard about this. Then, inevitably, he came up with another question.

"Sir? I've been thinking… Sir—even if the Stone's gone, Vol—I mean, You-Know-Who—"

Albus shook his head. The boy had clearly been informed of that senseless taboo against saying Voldemort's name. "Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

"Yes, sir," he said, almost without thinking, and Albus hoped the message had gotten through. "Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"

Albus sighed. Time to be honest… well maybe not completely… "No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share… not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time—and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

Harry nodded but stopped quickly for some reason. He then said, "Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me… things I want to know the truth about…

"The truth," Albus repeated warily, and a little sadly. He had a vague idea about what was coming. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"Well… Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"

_'For neither can live while the other survives_,' said a harsh tone in Albus' memory. It was clear to him that the Prophecy had not been fulfilled… not by a long shot. That scar was the mark that was spoken of, and since Voldemort still lives, the story was not yet at an end. He looked very closely at Harry, at this eleven-year-old boy with bright, innocent eyes.

No. Everyone deserves to hang on to that innocence as long as possible. Voldemort was gone for now, and there was no pressing urge for him to know. He would tell him when he was ready.

_(Or maybe… when he was ready to tell him.)_

"Alas," he said with a sigh, "the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day… put it from your mind for now, Harry."

'_Put it from your mind and be happy_,' he added silently. "When you are older… I know you hate to hear this… when you are ready, you will know."

'_And I pray that you never have to be ready for such a terrible truth_,' he thought.

Harry seemed to accept this with difficulty, but moved on. "But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"

"Your mother died to save you," Albus said quietly. "If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign… to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

As tears pushed up into those startlingly green eyes, Albus politely looked away so that Harry could compose himself again.

"And the invisibility cloak?" Harry asked once his eyes were dry again. "Do you know who sent it to me?"

Albus smiled, knowing Harry was going to like this particular truth. "Ah—your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it. Useful things… your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here."

_'But, and I know that you don't remember it, I also promised that I would bring it back to you.'_

"And there's something else…"

"Fire away," Albus said with another smile. He was getting to like Harry's curious personality.

"Quirrell said Snape—"

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry," Albus emphasized. He could quite overlook the lapse of the title for Quirrell.

"Yes, him—Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?"

"Well, they did rather detest each other," Albus admitted. More like hate each other. "Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive."

"What?"

"He saved his life."

Harry looked stunned. "_What_?"

"Yes," Albus affirmed, and smiled. He looked so much like a younger version of James that it was almost as if he were telling a first-year James that he would save Severus Snape's life in the future. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt… I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace…"

A part of him wanted to tell Harry the real motive… the real reason why Severus had been working so hard to protect him… but he promised Severus that he wouldn't let anyone… especially Harry… learn the truth.

Luckily, Harry went on and asked, "And sir, there's one more thing."

"Just the one?" he asked rather surprising.

"How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?"

Albus beamed at him. He really wanted to know the whole of the story, didn't he? And as he explained it to Harry, Albus couldn't help but feel proud that the boy had been able to get past the trick, to want to find the Stone but be selfless enough not to have any desire to use it.

"Ah," he said grinning broadly, "Now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it—would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life."

He smiled proudly. "My brain surprises even me sometimes…" he said more to himself than to Harry.

"Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them," he picked a golden-brown bean from right off the top that he thought, for sure, was toffee flavor. "But I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?'

He smiled as he popped the bean into his mouth. He choked it out, "Alas! Earwax!"

He left after that—but there was still one thing that he needed to do before he could relax. So he headed straight down to Hagrid's hut to ask a favor.

When he knocked on the great wooden door he heard Fang's booming barks, as always, demanding that he be let out. The door opened, and Hagrid stood there with very red and swollen eyes. "Professor D-Dumbledore, s-s-sir," he sniffled.

"Hagrid," Albus said kindly as he was invited in. "I just came from the Hospital Wing and I wanted to assure you that Harry is doing just fine. He should be out of there just in time for the end of year feast. So you can stop blaming yourself for what happened."

Hagrid gave a great shuttering gasp before he burst into tears. "Professor Dumbledore!" he sobbed, "It's my ruddy fault! I didn' mean ter! An' Harry almost died because of me!"

"Hagrid!" Albus said loudly, over Hagrid's tears. "Hagrid! It wasn't your fault! No one could've predicted what would happen…!"

"I'm sorry professor Dumbledore, sir," Hagrid went on as though he didn't hear him. And considering how loud he was crying, he probably didn't. "I lost yeh trust in me! I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I just went an' told him! It was the only thing he didn't know, an' I was a git to come out an' tell him! Harry could've died! Could've died 'cause I couldn't keep me mouth shut! I swear that I'll never drink again! Yeh should just sack me and be done with it!"

"HAGRID!" Albus finally yelled. "It wasn't your fault! Harry is alive and well! The stone has been destroyed so we don't ever have to worry about it falling into the wrong hands! But if you really want to make up for what happened, there is something that I would like you to do for me!"

"Anythin' sir!" wept Hagrid.

"I know that you've been working on it for awhile… but I would like you to take the rest of the day off and finish making that photo album for Harry."

Hagrid stopped crying immediately.

"I think that Harry would appreciate it," Albus said gently.

"But… Professor…" Hagrid said, not able to form the right words. But Albus held up his hand to stop him.

"Hagrid…" he said sternly. "I came down here to tell you that I do NOT blame you. And I'm sure that Harry doesn't blame you either. We all make mistakes. I just wanted to make sure that you finish that gift for Harry. And then, I want you to go and give it to him in person. I think that Harry would like that."

"But…" Hagrid began again but once again Albus interrupted him. "I refuse to allow you to quit Hagrid. Hogwarts needs you. Now if you please excuse me, I am short on time, and I have much to do before the year ends."

He patted Hagrid reassuringly on the arm, scratched Fang behind the ears for a moment, and then left without another word. He made his way back up to the castle with a slight grin. Hagrid had been like that ever since he found out that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gone after the stone. He was so quick to place the blame on himself.

Albus shook his head. He was lucky to have someone as Hagrid on his side.

_*End of the year*_

As he expected, Minerva had a well-thought-out lecture waiting for him at the end of term, just after all the students had departed for Hogsmeade station. It was all about the risks and the way first-years should never have had to go up against so much danger, and how, the Wizarding world would never forgive him if he'd gotten the Boy Who Lived killed.

Albus smiled, listened politely, and offered her a lemon drop when she had finished her rant.

"But you see, Minerva," he said, watching through one of Hogwart's many windows, at the Hogwarts Express departing the station in the village beyond, "After everything that has happened, it was never an unexpected trial, for him. At least not completely unexpected. The events of the year had all led up to it."

"But _why_, Albus?" Minerva demanded, exasperated. "Potter is just a boy! Not even a teenager yet! Why should he have had to risk his life like this at all?"

"This was just one of many tests that he's going to have to take," Albus answered quietly, with that sense of foreboding he always got when he thought of the words to the prophecy. "He has the character for it, he's proven that. But he still lacks the knowledge or first-hand experience that he's going to need. And there's no time like the present to prepare him." He glanced at her, and his eyes twinkled. "I do hope, however, that he will need to be watched much less closely next year."

Minerva on the other hand didn't seem to agree.

"Is there something you wish to say, Minerva?" he asked her.

"Well," she began slowly, blinking furiously. "It's just that… they say that the second year of school is always more exciting than the first."

Albus thought about that for a moment before he began to chuckle. "Yes… they do say that don't they? Well… we will find out if that's true."

He turned his attention back to the train as it made its way, winding like a snake, along the tracks, and away from Hogwarts. Albus stood there and looked out that window, long after the train and Minerva had both gone. He thought about everything that had happened this year…

"Yes," he muttered to himself. "This was but one of many tests that Harry will have to face. Good luck, Harry. Until next year."

(Hope you all enjoyed the first year! I'll be putting up second year as soon as possible. I would like to take a vote though, should I put in the interview with Lockhart? Or just go straight onto year 2?)


	14. The Hiring of an Idiot

**Chapter 14: The Hiring of an Idiot**

As Albus sat in the corner of the Hog's Head, listening to the applicant talk, he began to wish that he was somewhere—anywhere—else. (Or at the very least, talking to someone who might actually prove to be a good candidate for teaching.) But as usual, this year it had come down to Severus and one other candidate applying for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.

The candidate in question sat there across the table from him smiling—a very bright smile—a very bright, annoying smile—and talking nonstop. Although, talking was, perhaps, the most generous word Albus could come up with at the moment. Personally, he thought that it sounded more like bragging than anything else. It was amazing really; that the man could keep talking about himself for—Albus glanced up at the clock on the wall—almost 45 minutes without pausing for breath.

And without stopping to hear anything Albus had to say.

Finally, Albus, his patience growing thinner by the minute, cleared his throat to try and say something. But the man didn't notice; he just went on speaking as if he had been practicing in front of a mirror for hours.

He seemed to be recounting a story that involved something about a banshee.

Albus tried yet again to interrupt, "Gilderoy—"

"—And then I put on the earmuffs to protect me from the banshee's scream. Once I did that I ducked around the table to avoid the troll—"

Albus blinked before rolling his eyes. When had the troll come into the story? "Gilderoy—"

"It just barely missed my head with its club. But thank Merlin, I stayed calm and—"

"_Gilderoy_!" Albus yelled, finally at the end of his endurance for a moment.

The man, at last, finally came back to reality and flashed another grin. "Yes, Albus? You were trying to say something? You really should have waited till I was done, you know."

Albus forced a smile. "I do apologize, Gilderoy," though he wasn't sorry at all. "But I do have an urgent appointment at the castle very soon, and I must be on my way. I think I have enough information for now."

He stood and held out his hand. "Thank you for your submission, I'll contact you later about it."

Gilderoy Lockhart shook Albus's hand with a great deal of enthusiasm. "Oh, it's no trouble at all, Dumbledore. In fact, if you want I can come by later and be more than happy to give you more information about myself. It's no problem at all! Just let me know when I can officially announce the position to the papers! Have to keep my fan on their toes, you know. And remind me to tell you the story of when I was cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf; it really is worth hearing—"

Albus quickly excused himself as he turned towards the bartender, "Put it on my tab, Aberforth," he muttered. Then he turned and left.

_*Later that day*_

Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, sank deeper into his comfortable chair in his office. At least, none of his other teachers were bothering him right now so maybe he could have some peace and quiet for a minute.

"Albus?" came a familiar voice from outside.

Well the quiet was nice while it lasted.

"Yes, Minerva?" Albus asked, trying hard not to sigh or sound annoyed.

Minerva opened the door and came striving in. She gave him a surprised look. "Did something happen? You look terrible."

Albus rubbed his tired eyes. He was clearly aware of his Deputy's scrutinizing gaze.

"What exactly has you looking like you made the biggest mistake of your life?" she asked.

"I am very tired from the interview with an applicant for the Defense against the Dark Arts job."

One stern eyebrow traveled up into her straight hairline. "So someone finally applied? Who is it?"

"Believe me, Minerva, you rather not know," Albus replied holding up a hand.

The other eyebrow joined its partner. "Is that so? As long as it is not a Death Eater I can't see what the problem is."

"You have no idea…" Dumbledore sighed. Sometimes he really hated his job.

"Well, then who is it?" demanded Minerva.

"Do you by any chance remember that Ravenclaw student Lockhart?" he asked.

"Lockhart?" Minerva said surprised. "You mean that hopeless boy who would lie and brag about his accomplishments?"

"The very one," Albus groaned.

"Well, of course I remember," Minerva said not understanding. "He used to drive all the teachers, me included, up the wall with his crazy stories and… Wait a minute!" She was looking at him as though just seeing him clearly for the first time.

"Do you intend to tell me," she said through gritted teeth. "That you interviewed Lockhart for the job?"

"I had to," Albus said, trying to justify himself. "I have to interview everyone who applies for the job and he was the only one."

She looked almost scandalized. "He's the _only_ applicant?"

"The only other one was Severus."

Minerva closed her eyes and breathed slowly. "I am not looking forward to this year."

"If you had to choose between the two of them, which would you choose?"

Minerva opened her eyes and eyed him in surprise. "You're asking my opinion on your professors? You didn't last year."

"Last year was far more straightforward than this one. Quirrell was more qualified to teach the subject… except for the fact that he was serving Voldemort. Looking back, I would of course have hired Severus over him, but what's done is done—we can't change the past. This year, we have the choice of hiring Severus or letting in a teacher who can't teach to save his life. Given the present choice, I'd hire neither of them. However, we need to teach the students Defense Against the Dark Arts. It's a difficult decision and I would like someone else's judgment," Albus said calmly.

Minerva sighed. "I've always agreed with you on the fact that Severus shouldn't be allowed to teach that subject. It would be far too easy for him to slip back into his old ways. But the students would at least learn more with him than they would with Lockhart."

She looked rather put out. "Hire Severus then. He won't make himself popular, but we can't neglect the students' education, and you can't say that he doesn't know the subject."

"There is one other thing to put into consideration." Albus said once she was done. "Last year, I hired someone I knew had studied the Dark Arts. I knew Quirrell had the potential to be valuable to Voldemort, but I hired him anyway so that Severus wouldn't have to take the job."

He gave Minerva a serious look. "We both know that Gilderoy would be completely useless to Voldemort. He is not very talented, and his knowledge on the Dark Arts is lacking and borrowed. Even so, Voldemort may attempt to pull another stunt like last year. So the question is, would it be better for the students to learn something, and risk a situation like the one last year, should Voldemort turn up again, or would it be better to give the students a completely useless teacher for a year, and hope for someone better next time?"

She snorted. "I still can't believe people actually listen to what that complete git says. He was an arrogant liar in school, and I say he still is, no matter what his publishers think." Minerva frowned, and remained silent for several minutes as she thought everything over. Finally, she said unhappily, "I'm going to regret saying it. But hire the pompous liar." She shook her head, "He won't last the year anyway."

Albus gave her a shocked look, and chuckled. "Really, Minerva, I don't think I've ever heard such a harsh commit from you."

"I know… but you know as well as I do that he'll be gone before the end of the year—just like all the others. This curse for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job is really starting to give Hogwarts a bad name."

"It could just be bad luck?" Albus said, though his lip twitch.

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Losing a teacher 6 or 7 times in a row for that one subject each year in bad luck. We're talking about… what? A couple decades at least?"

He inclined his head respectfully, though he was still smiling slightly, "Whatever you say Minvera."

She gave him a dark look before she turned and left.

_*Later* _

Three hours later Albus was still sitting in his brightly lit office. Which was more than can be said for it occupant. For Albus was certainly _not_ feeling bright. Thanks to the other five inquiries by different members of his staff, he had developed a splitting headache, and had to make a narrow escape from being sent to the Hospital Wing by Pomona.

She'd meant well, of course, but the he didn't need to go to the Hospital. What he needed more than anything was to be able to ignore the knocking on his office door.

Forcing a pleasant expression and his typical smile on his face, Albus called, "Come in."

And through the door stepped the man responsible for his headache. Lockhart came strutting through the doorway with his wavy, blond hair fixed in a rather dreadful permanent wave and an equally impossibly large smile that showed all of his spotlessly white teeth perfectly, wearing sparkling lilac robes.

"Ah, Albus!" he exclaimed jovially, his teeth flashing, extending a hand. "How good to see you again!"

Standing politely, Albus shook his hand, carefully keeping his annoyance at being addressed by his first name by this idiot from showing.

"You as well, Mr. Lockhart," he lied.

"Call me Gilderoy, Albus," Lockhart offered with an irritating air of generosity. "After all we will be colleagues soon!"

Lockhart winked at him and Albus had to fight from gritting his teeth.

"Ah yes, straight to the topic then," he said blandly, regarding Lockhart over the rim of his glasses. "I want to make sure that you know what you're getting into. Are you sure that you think that you're qualified for this job?"

"My dear Albus!" Lockhart let out a laugh that sounded as fake as his haircut looked, like he had been practicing it, "I thought that we went over this earlier! Of course I would be perfect for the job; after all, I save a village from werewolves, banished the Bandon Banshee, not to mention-"

After a few minutes of praising his own deeds—Albus decided that he would quit eating lemon drops for good if any of it turned out true—he started to tune Lockhart out, thinking longingly of him just leaving.

"…so you just can't help hiring me," Lockhart finally concluded, snapping Albus out of his daydreams.

As much as Albus hated to admit it, Lockhart was true, though not because of any of the reasons Lockhart had bragged about. He only a few weeks were left until the start of term and they _needed _a professor. Lockhart was still better than no one...

He looked up to see the future professor still grinning brightly at him.

Then again… maybe having one teacher short wasn't such a bad idea.

"So which books would the students need to purchase if you get the job?" he asked.

Lockhart looked almost surprised at the question. "Why, all of mine, of course. I'm sure that someone as brilliant as you must have read them. So I'm sure that you must be aware that they are perfect course-work material."

Albus bit back a cheeky retort and simply said, "As a matter of fact I have not."

"What? Now really, Dumbledore," Lockhart exclaimed, sounding astounded, his smile fading for the first time. Albus noted the use of his last name again, "I will be sure to send you copies immediately!"

For a moment Albus wondered if he should embarrass Lockhart by asking for a demonstration of his talents, but then again—who knew what kind of damage that he could do by accident. Albus just had his office redecorated and he didn't want to see it destroyed. Besides, he privately thought that Lockhart's only talent was to show every one of those white teeth even when he wasn't talking.

"Very well then," Albus said firmly, hoping against all hope that Lockhart would take the hint and just leave.

But of course, he didn't. Albus was tempted to do something about it… but he didn't think that destroying half his office with a blasting hex wasn't worth it.

"Is there anything else, _Gilderoy_?" he asked, the slightly harsh way of saying Lockharts name was the only indication of his impatience.

"Well, Albus," Lockhart started cheerful—already Albus knew he wasn't going to like this—"after our last meeting… I thought for sure that you…"

"I wanted to make certain that there wasn't anyone else applying for the job," Albus said regretfully. "It's not that I didn't reject your application…"

Lockhart laughed and continued, "I should've known! Can you believe that I actually thought that you didn't want me to teach here?"

Albus closed his eyes so that Lockhart wouldn't see his eye twitch. "Anyway, what I wanted to say is that I, as the unrivaled expert in that area, wish to offer you some career advice. How a man of your talent got wasted at this _school _I will never understand."

Only with a great effort Albus stopped his jaw from falling open. He had not expected evenLockhart to be so full of himself to offer him, Albus Dumbledore, _career advice_.

"As a matter of fact I do **not**require your advice, Gilderoy. I am happy here at Hogwarts—and as long as I am on the chocolate frog cards, I do not care about other titles."

Lockhart didn't look convinced, but in a first show of common sense let the topic drop. But then he smiled brightly again. "Speaking of which, I gather I'll be on a card soon as well," Lockhart boasted, his pride recovered.

Albus' first thought was _'That will happen the day that Severus awards Gryffindor house points'_, and then he considered the Wizarding world. The day that the Wizarding community puts _him_ on a frog card is when he knows that there is no hope for humanity.

Five minutes and a lot of subtle persuading later the door finally closed with a satisfying _thud_.

Blessed silence…

Albus rested his head on the back of his chair. To think that he had no other option but to hire this idiot!

He was sure to lose his mind having Lockhart around.

He was sure that Minerva was going to kill him—if Severus didn't beat her to it.

_*The next day*_

Albus spent the rest of the next day writing letters. With reluctance, he wrote the letter to Lockhart hiring him as a professor. He also wrote a note to Fudge's secretary as a way of informing the Ministry of the choice, and a letter to each of the school governors as well.

He was just about to leave for the owlery when he heard a throat clearing from somewhere above him.

"Good afternoon, Dumbledore."

Albus smiled. Everard, Dexter, Dilys, Armando, Phineas, and all the other portraits were all looking down at him through their frames.

"Yes?" he addressed them all. "Is there something I can help you all with? Anything on your minds?"

They all shrugged and pretended not to look interested. "We just came to check on how everything was going," Dexter said mildly.

Albus chuckled. "Term doesn't start for another few weeks; I hope that I don't need to remind you all. Harry will be back then. Do be patient."

Everarad sniffed and pretended to sound annoyed. "Harry? You mean Harry Potter? What on earth makes you think we came to ask about him?"

"Yes," Dilys agreed with some of the others. "I merely wanted to see if you really hired that idiot for a professor. I thought I'd check to make sure things were going smoothly for you while I was here."

Phineas raised an eyebrow. "Don't believe them, Dumbledore. They're as obsessed with watching that boy as you are. If not more so."

The others all looked irritated at him. "Obsessed?" Armando demanded. "I can assure you that none of us are the least bit interested. I'm just here to visit, that's all."

Dilys ignored this comment and turned back to Albus. "So—did you hire that prat Lockhart?"

"Yes, actually," Albus answered her. He explained how he didn't have any other choice for a few minutes, then paused. "You aren't really here to talk about my staff, are you all?"

The portraits, minus Phineas, all blinked in fake surprise. "Of course we are!" Dexter said in a offended tone. "Why else would we be here. Do go on about… ah… what were you just saying?"

Albus sighed, supposing he might as well humor them. "I'm actually glad you stopped in today. I've been meaning to ask if any of you would be willing to follow Harry Potter around school again this next year? Just to keep an eye on him for me."

He gave a meaningful look towards Phineas as he said this. "Are you all interestesd?"

"Well," Dexter said a little too quickly, "I don't see why not."

Everard on the other hand said, "Well, I don't know, Dumbledore. There was a lot more trouble than even you anticipated last year, now wasn't there?"

"Which is why you are going to be needing a few extra eyes to keep an eye on the little trouble-maker, Albus," Dilys said reasonably.

Phineas snorted. "Oh, just tell him you're all ecstatic about it and be done with it!"

Albus held onto his grave expression with difficulty. "I certainly hope that this year is going to have quite as many problems as the last one. Your duties will be about the same, reporting to me if there's anything unusual going on with Harry. And give me regular updates on his schoolwork."

He saw Phineas shaking his head. "And this is coming from the Headmaster who claims not to pick favorites. You disappoint me Dumbledore."

As for all the other portraits, they were all clearly doing their best to look reluctant.

"All right, then. I suppose we could do it. When does the boy get here again?" Dexter asked.

Albus smiled as he picked up his letters and headed towards the door. "September 1st. Term always begins on September 1st."

"Right. September 1st," Dilys said. "Well, I'll bid you a good afternoon, then Dumbledore."

Albus pretended not to some of the happy expressions on their faces as he left.

(Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Please tell me what you think.)


	15. A New Year

**Chapter 15: A New Year**

"Please tell me that you saw the paper last week?"

"Yeah… they were saying that Gilderoy was trying to convince the reporter that they were all fighting over his newest book. As if Arthur Weasley and Lucius Malfoy would be fighting over that idiot's book…"

"Oh, what I wouldn't give to know what they really fought about."

"How much you want to bet that Lucius started it?"

Albus smiled to himself as he listened to his staff talk about the Daily Prophet in the otherwise empty Great Hall on the morning of September 1st. They  
were all talking about the large picture of the winking and beaming Gilderoy Lockhart, whose arm had been clamped firmly around the shoulders of Harry Potter. Harry seemed to be making every attempt to escape and, though the black-and-white picture didn't show it, his face beet red behind his glasses.

Albus felt pity for the poor boy. At that moment, Minerva said to him from his right, "I still can't believe you hired the useless hoax as a teacher!"

"Now, Minerva, there's never been any _evidence_ that Gilderoy is a fraud." Albus smiled at her over his orange juice though it was a forced one. "Something tells me this will be a difficult year, but we'll just grin and bear it."

At that point, the double doors to the Great Hall burst open to reveal the very blond wizard in that they were all talking about in disgusted tones. When he strolled in, a few of the teachers groaned, a couple others rolled their eyes, Severus Snape actually bared his teeth.

"Good morning, all," Gilderoy Lockhart greeted the now silent hall in a loud, cheery voice. "So sorry that I'm fashionably late. I got a bit delayed in London by a troublesome ghoul who—"

"Yes, welcome, Gilderoy," Albus interrupted, waving a hand in hopes of cutting off the story before the rest of his staff could kill him. "Breakfast is here if you haven't had it yet. Most of the rest of us arrived last night. You left your luggage in the Entrance Hall I'm guessing?"

"Hmm?" Gilderoy said with another showy grin as if he hadn't been listening. "Oh, yes, yes, of course. I trust the house elves will take care of it? I must say they're dead helpful little buggers aren't they? Did I tell you about the time I freed at least a hundred of them from the clutches of the dark wizard? They all wanted to serve me after I freed them! But no I said… I told them that I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself. If I recall correctly—there were also at least a dozen goblins enslaved as well. They all thanked me generously for freeing them and put in a good word for me at Gringotts—"

Albus cleared his throat as he stood up. "Yes well, Gilderoy, why don't you take a seat if you'd like some food. As for the rest of you, you have until this  
afternoon to finish getting settled in. Our first staff meeting of the term will be at the usual time. Make sure that you all have everything you'll need and be ready for when the students arrive. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to be sure that everything is ready for tonight."

With these words, he quickly strode out of the hall, giving Minerva an apologetic look as Gilderoy attempted to engage her in conversation.

The day passed quickly enough as Albus dealt with problems in organization and the last-minute crises that always seemed to pop up in the hours before the students arrived. Peeves had to be expelled from the kitchens, several of the ghosts were reported missing from the castle and had to be found, the giant squid had it's tentacles all tangled together—a feat that Hagrid had sorted out in no time—and a few boggarts that had slipped into the castle over the summer had to be taken care of.

It took them all the entire day, but at last, everything was finally ready just as the students were all arriving.

At that time, Albus, who had been resting in his office, heard the tapping of an owl on the window; with a copy of the Evening Prophet in its beak. When Albus had paid the owl, there was a knock on his door. Minerva and Severus entered, who—to Albus, both looked quite uptight. They kept interrupting each other every other sentence as they tried to get their point across. Albus's looked from one to the other like he was watching a game of tennis.

"Dumbledore—"

"Headmaster—"

"Lockhart has just been to my dungeon requesting that I make a potion that would whiten his teeth—"

"I refuse to have that mindless idiot assisting me in my Transfiguration class—"

"I don't care how many awards he's won for that ridiculous smile of his—"

"—he is a nightmare, he'll drive us all mad before the end of the year."

"I couldn't care less if he—"

"—and if I hear him keep going on about him replacing me as deputy head, I'm going to—"

"—pathetic excuse for a wizard! If he comes near my office again, I want the right to curse him!"

Albus raised his hands up defensively, "I understand your frustration. But please don't threaten him again, Severus. And Minerva, I assure you that there is no way that Gilderoy will become a deputy. I personally will join the stop eating lemon drops when that happens."

The two looked rather discouraged that they couldn't threaten the new professor… if you can call Lockhart one.

Minerva's lips became a thin line before she asked, "Are you absolutely certain about Lockhart's appointment, Albus? Please… there must surely be someone else who can do the job!"

Severus glared at Dumbledore but didn't speak.

Albus picked up the paper that the owl had delivered. "I'm afraid the appointment for this year is final, Minerva. But if you would…" He broke off suddenly, for he had just noticed the front page. He held up the front page for the other two to see. "Do either of you know anything about this?"

_Flying Ford Anglia Mystifies Muggles_, the heading read. The page included a picture featuring a turquoise Ford Anglia launching itself into the clouds above King's Cross station in London. Two heads were just visible in the front seat, one of them with flaming red hair… and the other with messy, jet-black hair.

Both Minerva's and Severus's jaws dropped in amazement. But before either one could comment however, several portraits made outcries of alarm as they came dashing through their frames.

"Dumbledore! Dumbledore!"

Albus glanced up at the portraits and asked, "Yes? Is there something wrong?"

"He's not here, Dumbledore! Harry Potter isn't here! He didn't arrive with the other students!"

"We all must've double-checked several times!"

"But I repeat that he's nowhere to be seen!"

"But a few of us did see that Hermione Granger looking worried! Do you think—"

"Dumbledore, you don't think anything happened to the boy do you?"

"You don't suppose he's in danger, do you?"

Severus rolled his eyes and suppressed a sigh. "Wonderful more Potter fans."

As the portraits all made loud and rude remarks to Severus, Minerva squinted at the photograph in the paper. "That's… Arthur Weasley's car, isn't it? I remember hearing Molly talk about Arthur recently coming across an old Muggle car…"

Severus's eyes gleamed. "Did Potter and Weasley just decide not to come back to school this year?" he asked in an unmistakably hopeful voice.

In one of the portraits above, Dexter dropped his wand in horror.

Minerva scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, Severus. If anything, they're on their way to the school right now. Though it appears that they decided to… err… come another way."

And as if on cue, there was an almighty crashing sound from the grounds, accompanied by the definite sound of screeching brakes and a car backfiring. They all snapped their heads towards the window, and Albus ran over to it. Though he couldn't see any trace of a crash from this side of the castle.

"How much do you want to bet that's them now?" asked Phineas.

Albus sighed as he ran a tired hand over his eyes. "Severus, will you make sure they are unharmed? Minerva, you and I must attend to the sorting; we are late as it is. And I'm sure that the students are impatient for the feast to start." The three of them hurried out of the room, ignoring the portraits that followed, them.

_*Half an hour later*_

After the sorting, Albus knocked at Severus's office door. And almost immediately, a happy looking Potions Master answered the door and showed him inside…

Albus knew that look anywhere… Severus was hoping for a punishment. Albus entered Severus's office to face a terrified Ron Weasley and a clearly remorseful and ashamed Harry Potter.

Feeling grave that Harry might have done it for desire of more fame, he stared down his long nose at the two second-years. He saw that Harry put his head down, unable to meet his eyes. He stood there without saying a word for a long time, until at last he asked them, "Please explain why you did this."

Harry kept his head down and spoke to his knees. The details were confusing, since Harry refused to look at him. But Albus did gather from a subtle use of legilimency that Harry and Ron had been unable to get through the barrier at King's Cross Station.

And panicked by the emergency, Harry had not thought to use his owl, but had immediately grabbed at the only other available resource in his desperation to return to school. Albus breathed an internal sigh of relief. So this exploit was not a stunt for more fame, after all.

Once Harry had finished talking, he noticed that the boy still didn't look up.

Albus smiled guiltily to himself, he never tried to do that to his students. He just could never find it in him to be angry at his pupils, although the disappointed silences did seem to work better than anger.

_'The car had disappeared, and it's what is important in the situation,'_ thought Albus, so he didn't ask any questions.

"We'll go and get our stuff," said Ron Weasley in a discouraging voice.

"What are you talking about, Weasley?" barked Professor McGonagall from next to him.

"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?" asked Ron. Harry finally looked up and stared at him in desperation.

Albus fought down a smile. The situation wasn't particularly serious, of course. James and Sirius Black got into far worse trouble almost on a daily basis. How seriously first and second years seemed to take the rules—these two were truly convinced they were about to be expelled!

Albus was also aware, of course, of the ministry's detection of magic in Little Whinging that summer and the ministry's warning of expulsion at the first sign of more magic. Albus hadn't been able to help chuckling at that. Students were only expelled from Hogwarts if the underage magic that were preformed were harmful.

Albus could think of one expulsion in Hogwarts history…

Truthfully, he'd expected Harry, as James Potter's son, to test the rule on underage magic long before this. Yes, the younger students certainly took the rules far more seriously.

"Not today, Mr. Weasley," he said calmly. "But I must impress upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you."

Relief spread over Harry's face. But at that moment, Severus, who looked as though he had been slapped in the face, cleared his throat and said, "Professor Dumbledore, these boys have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree — surely acts of this nature —"

Albus suppressed another laugh, he knew that Severus hated that tree.

"It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these boys' punishments, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "They are in her House and are therefore her responsibility."

To prove his point, he turned to Minerva and said, "I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give out a few notices. Come, Severus, there's a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample —"

He pretended not to notice the look of pure detestation Severus had given the two boys before he left with him. Albus returned to the feast with Severus in tow, and as he left, he noted a few relieved-looking portraits hiding in the paintings.

It was just the start of the year—and already it started off with a bang.

Yes, something told him that this year was going to be an interesting one.


	16. The First Attack

**Chapter 16: The First Attack**

The first few weeks of classes were eventful, to say the least. Albus received no less than 50 complaints about the new _teacher_ from every other single member of his staff.

Professor Binns seemed to be the only one that didn't have any problems with Lockhart, but then again he rarely remembered Albus had replaced Armando Dippet as Headmaster some time ago. Madam Pomfrey was threatening to give Lockhart a real injury if he kept trying to give her advice on how to do her job, Spout had been heard that she wanted nothing more than to feed him to a few of the plants that she kept locked up in Greenhouse 3—and Flickwick was growing so annoyed that he had been planning to jinx Lockhart so that his teeth would fall out.

Even Sibyll Trelawney was harboring ill feelings towards Lockhart. She met Gilderoy after breakfast the first day of classes, but avoided further conversation with him by almost permanently locking herself in her secluded tower. Gilderoy once told Albus during one of his lengthy and biased conversations that he could never seem to find the entrance to the North Tower, and the magical trapdoor just never seemed to want to open for him. Albus chuckled at that.

Severus was dropping hints to him almost every mealtime that he thought it would be a good demonstration to a few of the 6th years about the potions that melted your bones in under a minute before they killed you and he wanted Lockhart to test them out for him. Minerva was seen with her hands twitching towards her wand every time she saw Lockhart, as though she was aching to turn him into a shrew or something.

As tempting as their offers were, he couldn't allow it. Sometimes he really hated his job. Suddenly there was a knock on his office door. "Come in," he called gravely.

And Professor Pomona Spout came in, looking angry.

"Evening, Dumbledore," she said gruffly. Albus sighed, having a good idea about what this was about.

"A pleasant evening to you, Pomona," he said pleasantly. "Please, come sit down. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

Her gray hair was even more frazzled than usual, and she had a distinctly put-out expression on her normally kind face as she took a candy from the dish and popped it into her mouth in just one fluid, aggravated motion. "I was just wondering if you got my message?" she asked after a pause.

"Ah, yes I did," Albus said happily. "I know that you've been working on healing the Whomping willow all week. How's that going?"

Pomona waved a hand away. "Well enough. It's a burly tree, I'm sure I can get it completely repaired within the next week at most," she added with a bit of her normal cheerfulness and pride in her work crept into her voice.

But that quickly vanished as she frowned. "_Gilderoy_ had some interesting…er… remarks on the process," she said acidly. "Nothing useful, and most—if not all of it—was completely false or made-up."

She leaned back in her chair and stared at Albus. "I won't have to deal with that idiot too much, will I? He's a big-headed fool, Albus, and an arrogant one to boot."

Albus smiled. "I do think that's the most polite phrasing I've heard about Lockhart this week, Pomona."

She just gave him an aggrieved stare. "I don't like complaining about people, Albus, especially a fellow professor," she stopped there for a minute, and Albus was willing to bet everything he owned that she highly doubted that Lockhart counted for a teacher.

"But that blonde ego-manic stretches my patience to the breaking point. And if that isn't bad enough, I have to listen to some of the girls in my classes talk about how handsome he is!"

Pomona let the sentence trail off in disgust. "Couldn't you just speak to him about sticking to his own subject, Albus? I could almost deal with the girls if I didn't have Gilderoy lecturing me about my plants."

"I'll do what I can," he promised, his eyes twinkling. "But you do realize that there is a good chance that he might not listen."

"Of course, but the attempt is all I ask." She heaved herself up from the chair in front of his desk and sighed. "Thanks for listening at least. Good evening, then, Albus."

"Until tomorrow, dear Pomona," he answered courteously.

Albus went back to the letters that he had received from Cornelius that day—he had just read a letter wondering of the possibilities of holding the TriWizard Tournament in a few years—when someone said, "Albus?"

He looked up and smiled at who had spoken to him, "Good evening, Dilys."

"Dumbledore," Dilys Derwent said with a slight nod and wave.

"And how is Harry doing this evening?"

She seemed to hesitate for a moment before answering. "Well, he successfully avoided Lockhart most of the day. And for most of the week come to think of it. Not as lucky with that Creevey boy—I think that they both memorized Harry's schedule or something."

"I'd imagine he was at least pleased that he didn't have to deal with Gilderoy today," Albus said.

"Yes. The man keeps trying to convince Harry he's nothing more than a minor celebrity, while at the same time he's trying to puff up his own small achievements; which I would be astounded if half of them are true."

"Half of them?" Phineas Nigellus said. "If any of them were true then I will…!"

"The Weasley boy doesn't like him either," Dily went on before Phineas finished. "But I think that Granger's infatuated." Dilys wrinkled her nose slightly in distaste. "I must say that I much prefer Harry's way of dealing with fame. I mean, he's more famous than Lockhart ever will be without even bothering! Harry sure seems to hate all the attention."

"Yes, he does," Albus said approvingly, "He had his detention last night, didn't he?"

"Yes, with Lockhart. Funny thing, though. Last night Harry said that he heard a voice. And I heard him telling Granger while he was walking down to breakfast this morning, that it was a voice that only he could hear."

Albus raised his eyebrows and fiddled with the end of his beard in a thoughtful manner. "A voice? Do you know who was it?"

"Well, that's just it," the portrait responded with a shrug. "There wasn't a voice. At least, not one that I heard while I was keeping an eye on him in detention. Speaking of which, did I really have to hide in one of Lockhart's portraits?" she asked in outrage. "I had to stand there for about 4 hours watching all the Lockharts on the walls do their hair and smile while the real one talked my ear off!"

"I'm sorry for that," Albus apologized. "But I need to know—did Lockhart hear anything?"

"No," Dilys answered, still angry at last night. "Though personally, I don't think that he can hear anything but his own voice. But that's what Harry said; perhaps he ought to see the nurse?"

Across from her, Phineas snorted. "You are positively overwrought with worry anytime that boy suffers so much as a paper cut," the former headmaster said in a disdainful voice.

Dilys gave him a nasty look. "I don't know what you're talking about," she answered in a would-be offhand voice.

"You don't remember coming in here at the start of term all upset because you and everyone else here couldn't find your precious Potter?" Phineas countered. "Dead annoying really. I'm surprised that none of you haven't gone and talk to him yourselves."

Dilys glared daggers at him. "You're lucky I'm over here!" she yelled.

"I could reach him for you!" Everard offered helpfully as he raised his own wand.

"Oh, I'm so scared," Phineas said sarcastically. "Please, you couldn't beat me in a duel even if I was blindfolded!"

"Why you—"

"Did Harry mention what the voice said?" Albus interrupted, breaking up the fight.

"I heard him say to his friends that it was something dark and about ripping and killing. He said that he heard it from inside the walls, but he wasn't very detailed when he described it, but he did sound unnerved."

"And you're sure that you didn't hear anything?" Albus pressed, more urgently now. "Anything at all?"

"Nothing aside from the normal drippy pipes in that part of the castle," she answered.

Albus considered this for a long time, but without any conclusions. He stood up and he took out his penseive so that he could add some thoughts to it, then swirled the contents of the basin around to see what it might turn up. No good—only a memory of Argus complaining about the plumbing when Moaning Myrtle flooded the first floor girls' bathroom last year.

Fawkes, watching over his shoulder, crooned weakly at him. Albus reached out and stroked his head—Fawkes had been looking ill lately—a burning day must be coming.

With a sigh, Albus turned back to Dilys. "Watch him closely. I don't think Harry's unstable, but hearing voices isn't a good sign. It often leads to danger." Albus stroked Fawkes ponderingly as he watched Dilys exit through the portraits lining the walls. He had a bad feeling about this.

_*Halloween*_

Albus was getting ready to go down to the Halloween feast when Phineas came into view and said, "Looks like Potter, Weasley, and Granger aren't going to the feast, just thought that you would like to know."

"Why is that?" Albus asked in surprise.

"Well, you want to know every single move that the boy makes," Phineas said annoyed as he sat back in his chair. "And you made me keep watch this week so I…"

"Not that," Albus said impatiently. "Why aren't they going to the feast?"

"Oh, something about being invited to that Gryffindor ghost's deathday party tonight. Why anyone would want to celebrate the day they died is beyond me."

Albus nodded. "Keep an eye on him for the evening, Phineas," he said to him. When he say that he was about to protest he said, "Do it tonight and you'll be off duty for the rest of the year, seeing how I've got nothing but complaints from you all week."

Phineas groaned, "Really Dumbledore. You think that the boy would be attacked around every corner the way you act."

"That's what you said that last year," Albus said. "And looked what happened! Trolls, dragons, and fighting Voldemort. Harry was nearly killed last year, and I do not wish to take any chances this year."

Phineas groaned again. "Fine. But just for tonight! Make someone else watch him. I find it so tiresome."

As he left for the feast, Albus had to fight a smile, a few of his other paintings were all telling Phineas off.

_*Later*_

The feast was amazing, the food was just as delicious as it always was, and the dancing skeletons that he hired for entertainment caused all the students to laugh and awe. He didn't know why… but every once in awhile he would turn his attention back to the Gryffindor table—and once the deserts were all disappearing, he couldn't help but feel worried. Hoping that he was just being paranoid, he sent his students off to bed, while he stretched and yawned, reading for sleep himself.

But as he walked into the Entrance Hall, he heard Phineas call out calmly to the whole school. "Oi! Dumbledore! You might want to head up to the second floor corridor!"

The students all turned up to him in confusion and surprise. "You won't believe this," Phineas yelled, not caring who heard him, and seemed to be doing his best to make sure that _everyone_ did. "But there something written on the wall in what looks like blood…"

All the students stared at him before they all started heading to the second floor.

"Phineas," Albus called exasperated.

"You said to let you know if something happens?" Phineas said in mock confusion.

"Yes, but not to broadcast it to the whole school!"

Phineas shrugged. "Hmph, touché. You should be a little more specific."

Albus gave him a dark look before he too was running up the stairs with most of his staff right behind him. He knew that the only reason that Phineas told him in front of the whole school was because he wanted a good excuse to not have to follow Harry around again.

He would deal with Phineas later.

When he got to the second floor he heard Argus Filch yelling at the top of his lungs, "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris? You! You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll —"

Worried that his caretaker would do something drastic, he called, "Argus!"

He came into the hallway with his the other teachers… and then he stopped dead when he saw the sight before him. There was Argus's cat dangling from a torch by its tail like a stuffed animal, and there—written on the wall itself were the words:

The Chamber of Secrets has been opened

Enemies of the heir… beware.

Below the writing was Filch standing over Harry, Ron, and Hermione who were looking pale and scared. It took him a second to process all this before he snapped back into action. He swept passed them all, and removed the cat from the torch and said to Filch, "Come with me Argus. You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," he then added to the trio.

Lockhart stepped forward, with a grin on his face, "My office is nearest, Headmaster — just upstairs — please feel free —"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore, though he was dredging the moment that he would have to set foot in that office and listen to Lockhart go on and on about some amazing feat he'd done. But now was not the time to complain.

He made sure that all the students were heading back to their common rooms before he led everyone else upstairs—he looked back at Harry and his friends to see how they were acting about all this. He felt bad for their terrified expressions and a part of him felt that he should say something—but before he could, they reached Lockhart's office. As the door was pushed open, several pictures of the man were seen running out of their pictures with mud masks and hair rollers. He rolled his eyes.

Suppressing a sigh, he let Lockhart light some candles as he gently laid the frozen cat on the desk and examined her. He bent down low and began muttering all kinds of countercurses under his breath, trying to return her to normal, or at the very least, find out what was wrong. He barely noticed when Minerva was bending down to help, or Severus when he walked behind them in the dark and looking happy for some reason.

He tried all the common counterspells but still, the cat didn't return to normal. Lockhart really wasn't helping as he hovered around them and saying things like, "It was definitely a curse that killed her — probably the Transmogrifian Torture — I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her…"

'_There's no such thing as the Transmogrifian Torture,'_ Albus thought incredibly; _'How thick is this guy?'_

Filch started to sob, his face was turned away from his cat and was buried in his hands. Dumbledore felt sorry for him, but he pushed that aside while he continued to work. He pulled out his wand and started performing all kinds of restoration spells… but nothing happened.

"… I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou," said Lockhart, who was really testing Dumbledore's patience, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once…"

Finally, Albus understood what was wrong and that this was out of his hands. He stood up and said as gently as he could to the upset caretaker, "She's not dead, Argus."

Lockhart shut up, something that gave him the greatest satisfaction. "Not dead?" repeated Argus as he looked up hands to stare at his cat. "But why's she all — all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," he said.

"Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart.

'_Sure he did,'_ Albus thought sardonically. _'And I'm a hippogriff.' _But instead of sharing that thought out loud he truthfully said, "But how, I cannot say…"

'_But if the Chamber of Secrets had indeed been opened again then…'_ but before his thoughts could go any further Filch yelled and pointed to Harry, "Ask him!"

Albus looked at Harry's worried face and said, "No second year could have done this. It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced —"

"He did it, he did it!" Filch yelled. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found — in my office — he knows I'm a — I'm a —" Filch's face was twisted as he spat out. "He knows I'm a Squib!"

'_And what does that have to do with anything?'_ Albus thought. From what the portraits have reported, and from what he'd seen so far from Harry's personality, he certainly isn't prejudice about blood.

Harry's face turned red as he said loudly, "I never touched Mrs. Norris! And I don't even know what a Squib is."

"Rubbish!" snarled Filch at the boy. "He saw my Kwikspell letter!"

Severus suddenly spoke, "If I might speak, Headmaster." Dumbledore turned to face him; Severus was so quiet that he had almost forgotten that he was even in the room. "Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time." Severus began to sneer in a way that only to plainly said that he doubted it. "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"

The trio all said at the same time, "We were at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party!"

"There were hundreds of ghosts, they'll tell you we were there—" Harry said.

Severus's sneer widen as he said, "But why not join the feast afterward? Why go up to that corridor?"

Ron and Hermione both looked at Harry. Albus glanced from them back to Harry, as he tried to understand what happened.

"Because — because —" the boy began, Albus could see that he was struggling to come up with an excuse. He could see the different emotions in his eyes—Harry looked deeply troubled by something.

"Because we were tired and wanted to go to bed," he finished.

"Without any supper? I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties."

"We weren't hungry," said Ron loudly and Albus almost smiled when Ron's stomach began to make noise.

Severus turned back to him and said in a hopeful tone, "I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful. It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest."

"Really, Severus," Minerva said immediately, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong."

Albus felt the desire to laugh, but held back, knowing that it wasn't the best moment to do so. He knew that if there's one thing that Minerva loved more the rules, it was Quidditch.

But Albus did agree with Severus when he said that Harry wasn't being entirely truthful… he looked at Harry, who looked him in the eye. He used Legilimency to see what Harry was so scared to tell him. And what he saw worried him greatly. He saw that Harry truly didn't have anything to do with the attack, and that the real reason that they were in the corridor was because Harry heard that voice that only he could hear—just as Dilys said. The voice was going to kill someone and he followed it all the way to the scene of the crime. He could see that Harry wanted to tell him the truth, but he didn't think that they would believe him if he did.

Which wasn't true.

"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said softly. The trio looked immensely relieved, while Severus and Filch both looked livid.

"My cat has been Petrified!" Argus shrieked, almost crying again. "I want to see some punishment!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," he assured him. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart said, clearly not used to being ignored. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep —"

'_Nooo,'_ Albus thought, knowing that Lockhart was more likely to set something on fire or poison the cat.

"Excuse me," said Severus hissed and Albus relaxed, "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

There was a brief silence before Albus said to the three that they were allowed to go. They nodded to him and quickly left the room only too gladly. He spent several more minutes reassuring Argus that Mrs. Norris was going to be alright and that the potion was going to be made as soon as possible before he and everyone else left the room.

"Headmaster," Severus said to him as they headed downstairs. "You do realize that Potter was refusing to tell us something?"

"I am aware of that," he answered.

"Then why let them go?" he demanded.

"Oh, I know that Harry didn't do anything," he said firmly. "He was just afraid of what he did have to tell me."

Severus opened his mouth to complain but he shook his head and let it go.

"I stand-by what I said before," Albus said. "No second-year could've done it. I truly don't believe that any one of the students is responsible for this. But who is… I honestly cannot say."

They were both silent as they went back to the second floor corridor and got a closer look at the wall. The words shining blood-red…

"Dumbledore…?" Severus asked him, and for the first time, he sounded concerned.

Albus looked at him gravely. "I don't want to believe it…" he said. "But… and I'm praying that this is doesn't happen… unless something worse happens… I can't be hundred percent sure that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."


	17. The Past Returns

**Chapter 17: The Past Returns**

'_The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir… Beware.'_ Those words had been haunting Albus for the last several days. He had every reason to be worried. His students were all endanger from an ancient monster and he had no idea who or what is behind it.

Well… that's not entirely true. He had a good idea who was behind it… but the question is _how_ is it possible?

He knew all too well that it was Tom Riddle who opened the Chamber 50 years ago. He knew that it was Tom Riddle who attacked those students and finally succeeded in killing one. He knew that Tom was the last living decedent of Salazar Slytherin… he knew that Tom was the one who hated Muggle-borns… and he knew that Tom was the one who framed Hagrid that day.

_*Flashback*_

_A much younger Albus Dumbledore was making his way towards Headmaster Dippet's office. He had just been told that the one responsible for the death of one of his students has been caught and is about to be expelled. Once he reached the stone gargoyle, he gave the password and stepped onto the spiral staircase. It was with a heavy heart that he reached the Headmaster's door, knowing that the one inside wasn't the one to blame. With a sigh, he pushed it open._

_Rubeus Hagrid was sitting in a chair in front of Professor Dippet's desk, looking more miserable than Albus had ever seen him. Hagrid was sobbing, with his face buried in his enormous hands, while tears were falling down his face in a flood. Dumbledore approached him quietly, barely making any noise over the sound of Hagrid's sobs. _

_"Mr. Hagrid?" he said kindly._

_Hagrid looked up startled. When he saw who it was he leapt up to his feet and wrung his hands together in a pleading way. "It weren' me, Professor Dumbledore, sir!" he implored. "Wha'ever Riddle says, it an't true! It's all a misun'erstanding! It weren' me or Aragog!"_

"_Please, Mr. Hagrid," Dumbledore said in a calm and soft voice as he led Hagrid back to the chair. He laid a gentle hand on Hagrid's massive shoulder in a comforting way._

_"Sir, please, this an't what it looks like sir! I can explain everythin'… but no one will listen!"_

"_That is why I'm here, Mr. Hagrid," Albus said sympathetically. "I wish to hear what you have to say. To understand everything you must hear both sides of a story."_

_Hagrid's eyes suddenly turned hopeful and he said, "Hagrid. Please call me Hagrid, Professor Dumbledore," he began._

_Dumbledore nodded his head. "Alright then Hagrid. Now I want you tell me everything you know about the Chamber of Secrets."_

_"Nothin', Professor, 'cept what everyone else knows," Hagrid said desperately. "I don't know where the Chamber is or how ter get it. I never went in there I swear!"_

_Hagrid rubbed his nose on his giant sleeve before he moaned, "I'm just glad that me dad's not here ter see me expelled."_

_"Now, Hagrid," Albus began softly._

_"Headmaster Dippet won't believe me, Professor," he interrupted bitterly. "How do you expect him to? Riddle's a perfect student and a prefect, everyone knows that. Wha' about me? I'm 'alf-giant Rubeus Hagrid who gets in trouble every week! They won' hesitate for an momen' on throwing me out."_

_Albus looked at him with grave eyes, the twinkle gone from them. "I cannot argue with that, Hagrid," he sighed, "Unfortunately, most of the teachers here weren't at all pleased with your admission. I'm afraid that all I can say is that I know that it is not what's in our blood that matters, but what we do with our lives that shows who we are. But you must understand that you are in a bad position where a student was killed and…"_

_"I didn' kill Myrtle, sir," Hagrid interrupted quickly. "I barely even knew her, sir! I heard she died in a bathroom, and Aragog's never b'n out of his cupboard! He couldn' 'ave kill her, sir. And even if he wanted ter, Professor, he's still just a baby, so he can' hurt nobody. He wouldn' hurt nobody!"_

_"But you did attack Tom, didn't you?" Albus questioned._

_"Yes…" Hagrid admitted. "But not really, sir. I didn't want ter, but he tried ter hurt Aragog sir! I couldn' let that happen!" He put his head down sadly, "I panicked sir."_

_"Understandable," Albus smiled slightly before sobering. "It happens to all of us every now and again. Now, tell me, who is this Aragog?"_

_"He's me friend sir," Hagrid explained. "I was playin' cards with a stranger… one night. And he put down an egg… he's an Acromantula and I've been takin' care of 'im ever since."_

"_An Acromantula?" Albus said in astonishment._

"_Yes, sir," Hagrid muttered. "But you have ter see, he wouldn' hurt anyone!"_

_"You do realize that was foolish Hagrid," Albus said softly but sternly. "You ended up putting your fellow classmates in danger."_

_Hagrid nodded sadly. "I'm sorry sir."_

"_It's alright. Not tell me where is Aragog now?"_

_Hagrid sighed, "He's not in the castle anymore, Professor. That's why I was down in the store cupboards last night when Riddle found me; I was 'rying to get Aragog out because of everything that's 'appening. He was scared by the real monster. He ran off ter the forest, sir."_

_Albus felt his eyebrows rise in surprise. "The Forbidden Forest?" he repeated hoping that he heard wrong._

_Hagrid nodded. "You see sir, Aragog been growin' a lot lately, and he needed a bigger home. He couldn' stay in the cupboard for much longer, so I've been getting 'im ready to move into the Forest; but he's just got so scared by what's been attacking the students that I tried to move 'im last night."_

_"Hagrid, you mean to tell me that you've wandered into the forest?"_

_"I had to, Professor!" Hagrid winced, knowing that things just got worse. "I had to do it for Aragog!"_

_"Be that as it may," Albus said firmly. "The Forbidden Forest got its name for a reason; it's dangerous…"_

"_I'm sorry sir!" Hagrid yelled, sounding close to tears again. "Aragog was afraid o' whatever's been attacking the students. He begged me ter let 'im go!"_

_Albus's eyes widened, 'What would frighten an Acromantula?' he thought._

_He snapped out of it and said, "Hagrid I understand why you did what you did. But keeping Aragog here in the first place was very dangerous."_

_Hagrid nodded and croaked, "But…"_

"_I'm afraid that this is out of my hands, Hagrid," Albus said sorrowfully. "I cannot convince the Board of Governors that you were not responsible for these attacks, especially since you were found with Aragog. Hagrid, I'm sorry but monsters don't make good pets."_

"_But Aragog…" Hagrid began desperately, but Albus raised his hand to silence him._

"_I can see that Aragog didn't attack those students, Hagrid," Albus said. "But no one else will believe this. Aragog is an Acromantula and it is in their nature to attack humans. I'm afraid that without any further proof…"_

_"It's all righ', Professor," Hagrid said, seeing where this conversation was going. "I know they won' listen to me. I'm glad that you did at least."_

"_I believe you Hagrid," Albus said gently. "I know that you didn't attack anyone. But I cannot change their minds. I have, however, managed to convince Headmaster Dippet that you meant no harm to anybody and that, considering your situation, he has agreed to some other preparations made for you, and if you agree, you don't have to leave Hogwarts." _

_Hagrid stared at him, looking like he hardly dared to believe it._

_"You mean… I…" he croaked out. "I c'n stay 'ere?"_

_Albus nodded kindly. "You won't be allowed to attend classes," he said. "And you won't be allowed to use any magic without permission. It will be very hard and difficult work. Probably the hardest part will be seeing your fellow classmates go on with their studies and leave the school without you."_

"_But…" Hagrid asked hesitantly. _

_"I suggested that you might stay here as gamekeeper," said Albus, smiling. "I persuaded Headmaster Dippet, that you'll help maintain the grounds, take care of the magical creatures, and everything else outside. What do you say to that?"_

_Hagrid smiled tearfully at him and said hoarsely, "Thank you sir…"_

_*End of Flashback*_

After that, Hagrid's wand was snapped in half. The Chamber was closed, and things returned to normal… well as normal as it can get at Hogwarts. But now Albus was terrified of what would happen this time the Chamber was open. Which innocence would die this time? He didn't want to jump to conclusions… but…

"ALBUS!" yelled a booming voice from his left. Albus looked up to see Dexter looking down at him with an expression of what appeared to be astonishment and incredulously.

"Yes, Dexter?" he asked politely.

"I just got back from watching Harry and his friends… and you're not going to believe what they're up to!"

"Well," Phineas said coolly, "We won't be able to believe it if you don't tell us!"

Dexter glowered at him for a minute and told Dumbledore, "They're trying to brew some Polyjuice Potion!"

Albus felt his jaw drop for a second before he asked, "How do you know this?"

Dexter shrugged and said, "I heard the three of them talking about the Chamber of Secrets in their commonroom. They've been trying to figure out who the Heir of Slytherin is and they think it's that Malfoy character."

"Draco Malfoy?" Albus said in surprise.

"Yes," Dexter said shaking his head. "I know that you believe that it's not Malfoy who's behind all of this, but that little snake sure isn't making it convincing. He strutting around the castle as if he owns the place and calling Muggle-borns that ugly word… so I can't say that I blame them for thinking its him."

"And so they're trying to get proof that Mr. Malfoy is the heir so they're going to brew the potion and sneak into the Slytherin commonroom in disguise." Albus said slowly. It normally took a lot to surprise him. He was impressed. "Well… they sure are creative I'll say that."

"You're not seriously letting them get away with this are you Dumbledore?" demanded Phineas indigently. "They're trying to make an illegal potion so they can sneak into the Slytherin commonroom and you're complementing them?"

"Yes," Dilys agreed but for a different reason. "You know as well as we do what can happen if the potion goes wrong! For goodness sake, they're only second years! The Polyjuice Potion is a sixth year potion! You truly think they can pull this off?"

"I know…" Albus said slowly. "But I'm curious to see if they can pull it off."

"Pull it off?" Phineas cried in outrage. "Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I mean, if they were any other students you would've stepped in and done something… but nooooo—it's your precious Potter and his two sidekicks…"

Albus turned back to Dexter before Phineas could finish. "Are you positive about this? Do they even know how to make such a complicated potion?"

"Like I said," Dexter said shrugging. "I was spying on them when they were doing their homework in their commonroom and they were trying to figure out ways to prove if it was Malfoy. Granger then told them about the Polyjuice Potion—and get this, she was the one who suggest they try it."

"Miss Granger is trying to persuade them to break the rules?" Albus asked with his eyebrows raised.

"I should've known that she was a troublemaker as well," Phineas said sourly. "That, or those two boys that she hangs out with are a bad influence on her."

"That's enough Phineas," Albus said. He then asked Dexter, "If I recall correctly, the only that they can get the instructions to make the potion is in a book call '_Moste Potente Potions_,' which I know is in the Restricted Section in the library. And if they want it they're going to have to get a signed note from a teacher and… ah…" He smiled and closed his eyes as realization washed over him. "They went to see Lockhart didn't they?"

"Did you have to ask?" snorted Dexter. "Of course, they did. I mean, no other teacher would be thick enough to give those three permission to read a book from the Restricted Section!"

"So they really are going to do it?" Albus confirmed.

"Yes," Dexter said. "I followed them all the way from the library to the second floor bathroom."

"Bathroom?" Albus repeated. "Oh, I take it that you mean the one that is haunted by Myrtle?"

"The very same," Dexter nodded. "They figured that it would be the best place to read the book. I have to admit they have a point. No one ever goes in there."

Albus nodded in agreement. "That it is. But how do they intend to get the ingredients? Most of them they can get from the student's store-cupboards. But I believe that they need… bicorn horn and boomslang skin?"

Dexter shrugged. "I'm sure that they'll figure something out. They always do somehow don't they?"

Albus smiled. "True. Now I would like you to tell me every detail that you know. I am well aware that there isn't a painting in the bathrooms…"

"Well," Dexter said slowly. "I didn't think that they would actually do it, that's why I didn't mention it before now. But today they went to that brainless git Lockhart. Miss Granger was rather clever on asking him for his signature, but he didn't even look at the name of the book that they wanted. As long as he can sign his name on something, he doesn't care."

Several, (and by several I mean all,) of the other portraits nodded in agreement at that statement. "And can you believe this?" Dexter said, sounding close to laughter. "He offered to give Potter tips on Quidditch!"

Albus actually laughed out loud at that. "Did he now?" he asked, his eyes twinkling for the first time in days. "If I recall correctly, Gilderoy couldn't even fly 3 feet off the ground without falling off and hurting himself."

"I know!" Dexter said, laughing himself. "He called Harry a _'less able player'_."

That caused another round of laughter from Albus and the portraits.

"'_Less able'_?" Dilys repeated, tears of laughter in her eyes. "If that's true, then why wasn't that prat ever on the team when he was here?"

"Yes," Everard agreed. "Why wasn't he the youngest player in a century?"

Once the laughter died down, Albus turned his attention, still smiling up at Dexter and said, "Before that bit of interesting information," the portraits all snorted, "What else did they do?"

"Well," Dexter said cheerfully, "Mr. Weasley insulted that git… Miss Granger defended him…"

"I thought that she was supposed to be the cleverest witch of her year?" Everard asked in amazement.

"She's young," Dilys said with a sigh. "Anyone can be fooled by a pretty face."

"Anyway," Dexter went on, "I followed them all the way to the library and I watched as they checked out the book. They then went to that bathroom… they need to work on their guilty faces by the way, you could tell that they were up to something."

"Yes," Albus said smiling. "That is something that they need to work on."

"Well, I couldn't hear what they were all saying while they were in there," Dexter finished. "But they all came out a little while later with Mr. Weasley telling Harry that it would be easier if he just knocked Malfoy off his broom at the Quidditch game tomorrow."

Albus tried to digest all of this new information. He was curious to see if these kids could actually pull this off… but he was also worried about what could happen if they failed. If anyone else found out about what they were up to…

He stood up. "Just keep a close eye on them all," he told the portraits. "I will go down and see how the potion is faring every once in awhile to make sure that they get it right."

"But they're breaking rules if not the law!" Phineas hollered. "You're supposed to do your job as Headmaster and force them to face punishment!"

"I know for a fact that Mr. Malfoy is not the one who is behind these attacks," Albus said thoughtfully. "But this could be informative for us all. For now, we watch and wait."

**(Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter.)**


	18. Hot Chocolate

**Chapter 18: Hot Chocolate**

Dumbledore was having a bad day. Not only was at a dead end to who was responsible for the event on Halloween—but Harry was almost smashed to pieces in the Quidditch match against Slytherin.

He was up to his neck in work so he couldn't go to the game in person, but he couldn't help but find himself staring out the window every few minutes to see what was happening. He could hear the commentary and he couldn't help but laugh at Lee Jordon's comments. That is until he noticed that one of the bludgers was acting strange.

He somehow found himself getting up from his seat and heading to the window to try and get a better view. It was the bludgers job to go after everyone not just one person… and the unlucky one was the smallest player in red.

'_Oh no,'_ Albus thought anxiously. _'Harry's got himself a rouge bludger…'_

How could this have happened? He watched as the two Weasley Beaters were on his either side of Harry, trying to protect him. He watched for a few minutes until finally they all headed to the ground for a time out. Just as he was starting to relax and hoping that they would call of the match…

Oh no…

The Gryffindors were all back in the air—but this time, the Weasleys were now focusing their efforts on protecting the rest of the team—leaving Harry to deal with the rouge one.

What on earth were they thinking? They couldn't leave Harry to deal with that thing on his own. He bit his lower lip and watched Harry's every move like a hawk. For awhile, it looked like Harry was performing a lot of tricks in midair, he would've laughed if it wasn't so serious.

He then saw one of the players in green fly up near Harry and it looked like he was shouting something at him; he recognized the blond head of Draco Malfoy. He saw Harry forced to spin in midair to avoid the jet-black ball from crashing into him before turning his head to the Malfoy. But then for some reason Harry suddenly froze, as if afraid to move.

"Look out!" he yelled as the ball then came flying at him again, but Harry still didn't move. And at last the bludger had hit him, smashing into his arm. But before Albus could comprehend what to do, Harry turned around and headed straight for Malfoy.

Unsurprisingly, Malfoy turned and flew as far as he could away from Harry. He watched in terror as Harry lost control of his broom and headed straight for the ground. He watched horrified as Harry crashed into mud and didn't move.

He turned to his portraits and shouted at them to go down to the Entrance Hall and find out what was going on. It was only afterwards did he stop to think about how he was acting and he couldn't figure out why he was so upset… he'd seen many of his students injured during a Quidditch game—and yet… why did he panic like that?

But before he could figure it out, Dilys and Everard both appeared in their portraits and called down to him. "Just got back Dumbledore!" Everard exclaimed. "Overheard the Gryffindor team talking about what happened. Apparently someone jinxed one of the bludgers, making it so that it would only attack Potter."

"Did they say who did?" demanded Albus.

"No one knows how it happened, Dumbledore," Everard explained with a shrug. "McGonagall and Snape are busy taking care of the bludger. Granger and Weasley took Potter up to the Hospital Wing."

"And how is he?"

"Ahhhh…" Everard said uncomfortably.

"Everard…" Albus said slowly and warningly.

"Well," Dilys finally spoke up. "Harry's arm was indeed broken by the bludger…"

"That's it?" Albus said in surprise. He had been expecting a lot worse from their concerned faces. "Is that really all?"

"Well…" Everard shifted awkwardly. "Yes, we all know that Madam Pomfrey could've had him patched up and ready to go in under a minute… but…"

"But what?" Albus said, starting to get frustrated.

Dilys then shouted out quickly, "The boy would've been just fine if not for that simple-minded fool Lockhart!"

Albus froze. "What happened? What did he do?"

"You see," Everard said timidly, "That idiot was trying to show off again, thinking that he knew more about fixing injuries than Pomfrey is and he tried to fix Harry's arm. And instead—he—er—how do I say this?"

"Just spit it out!" Phineas called losing his temper.

"He didn't fix Harry's arm," Dilys went on. "He removed them. His arm looks like a rubber glove!"

Albus closed his eyes, not believing what he was hearing. What was that idiot for a teacher thinking? Lockhart couldn't heal so much as a paper cut and he tries to fix a boy's broken arm? "He _vanished_ them?" his voice held no emotion, but you could clearly hear anger being held back.

"I'm sure he'll be just fine," Dilys said soothingly. "Pomfrey hasn't failed yet! And I'm sure that she's dealt with far worse than a boneless arm. Besides, McGonagall might have already killed Lockhart by now."

"In Lockhart's defense, he claims that the important thing is that Harry's bones are no longer broken!" Everard laughed darkly.

"Well, he's right," Phineas said in an oddly cheerful voice. "Technically, the bones are vanished… not broken."

"Phineas, please, I'm not in the mood," Albus said wearily. He turned back to Dily and asked, "What is happening now?"

"Potter's in the hospital of course," she replied. "But he has to spend the night. It's a shame. Out of all the houses, the Gryffindor parties are always the best. But he has over 30 bones to regrow, he's in for a tough night."

"Yes," Albus agreed. "Skele-Gro isn't a pleasant experience."

"And can you believe her?" Dilys said incredulously. "Granger continues to stick up for that fat-headed idiot even after what he did to her friend. Says that anyone could make a mistake."

Phineas roared with harsh laughter.

"Anything else they talk about?" Albus asked curiously.

"Potter says that he's not in any pain," she said in a slightly more positive tone. "That's something."

"He won't be for long," Albus said forebodingly, knowing how painful it was to regrow even a single bone. "But I meant did they talk about the Polyjuice potion?"

"Yes, but only a little bit," Dilys admitted. "They talked mostly about that bludger and a whole list of questions that they planned on asking Malfoy when they took the potion. Once Pomfrey kicked his friends out, I decided to follow them back to their commonroom to see if they'd talk any more about their plans. And Granger told Weasley that they should get started on the potion. Miss Granger said that she would start on it tonight before she turned in."

"I see," Albus said thoughtfully. "But who would do this? Why would anyone set that bludger on Harry?"

"I'm sure that there are a few people out there who would like to do that," said Dexter as he suddenly walked into his own painting.

"You don't suppose that it was just the Slytherins behind it?" Everard asked. "I mean, cursing a bludger to attack the Gryffindor Seeker? It does sound like something they would do."

"What was that?" Phineas yelled indigently from across the room.

"Come on," Dexter called tauntingly. "You Slytherins would do something like that if it meant wiping out Gryffindor!"

"That does it! I'm gonna…"

"Enough!" Dumbledore called. "Dexter, Everard? Please keep an eye on Myrtle's bathroom this evening. Let me know if they go down there and when they leave. Dily, there is a portrait of you down in the Hospital Wing isn't there? Please keep an eye on Harry tonight."

They all saluted before they walked out of their frames.

"Really Albus," Phineas called in disappointment. "Don't you think that you're going a little overboard with this? You're actually planning to help some kids brew a dangerous potion and are having us follow them around all day to make sure that they don't caught?"

"I have my reasons," Albus said firmly.

"Well, tell me one thing," Phineas said slyly. "Why did you look so worried when you heard Harry was hurt?"

"I do not know what you're talking about," Albus said in a tone that clearly ended the conversation. But as he went back to work, he couldn't help but wonder that question himself.

_*Half an hour later*_

Everard appeared in his canvas again and called. "Granger moved a cauldron and all the ingredients she could get from the store cupboards into the bathroom! But I don't think that she'll start until tomorrow."

"Thank you Everard," Albus said slightly happier. "I'll go and check on it myself in a short while. To be honest, I'm interested to see how they pull this off."

Once he finished addressing some letters to Fudge much later that night, he changed into his favorite dressing gown and nightcap before he left his office. He would check on the bathroom and then get some hot chocolate to help soothe his tense nerves before he went to bed.

When he arrived at the bathroom, he saw that Everard was indeed correct. There was an old cauldron sitting on one of the toilets in a stall with several jars and bags of ingredients stored next to it. One look told him that, for now, they didn't need any help from him yet. He was impressed with how they were plotting all this, and it seemed like they had everything thought out for now.

Satisfied, he left. But that feeling didn't last long. He had gone down to the kitchens where the house-elves greeted him happily and were trying to offer him several dozen cakes with his hot chocolate. He refused politely before he left, feeling much more cheerful than he had all evening. But as he reached the grand staircase—he heard something that got rid his good mood instantly.

It was a slight scream of horror from nearby. Albus automatically pulled out his wand and raced up the stairs to see what was happening. He ran a full floor above him and there was Minerva, kneeling next to what he thought at first was a statue.

She jumped as he came near her, pulling out her wand in the process. "Oh, Albus!" she cried when she saw who it was. "Did you find out what did this?"

"Did what?" he demanded.

"This," she muttered horrified as she bent low over the statue again. It then that Albus realized what was it was. Shakily, he raised his wand and croaked out, "Lumos."

His wand tip ignited, and there… what he thought was a statue… was the frozen form of first year Colin Creevey. The poor boy's eyes were wide and staring frozenly up at them as his hands were clenched tightly around a Muggle camera.

"What happened?" Albus asked as he bent down to examine the boy.

"I don't know," Minerva said sadly. "I was coming downstairs and I just found him lying here."

"So you were the one I heard scream then," Albus said as he raised his wand and caused the boy to levitate a few feet off the floor. As he moved his foot, he felt a funny squishing beneath his slipper. He looked down to see some grapes lying on the floor where Mr. Creevey was lying.

"Grapes?" Minerva asked confused.

Albus didn't stop to think about that, he had something more important to do. "Come on, we must get him to the Hospital Wing."

She didn't object as they both took Colin upstairs. "What were you doing down here, Headmaster?" she asked him.

"I was getting myself some hot chocolate when I heard you," Albus answered. "Naturally, I came to see what was going on."

"What do you think he was doing?" Minerva asked as she looked back at the boys petrified face. "Or maybe someone brought him here?"

"No," Albus said. "No, I'm certain that he was already out of bed when he was attacked."

"But why would he do something so foolish?" Minerva asked in disbelief. "You think after what happened on Halloween gave him more sense."

Albus thought about it for a second before shrugged, "Any number of reasons. I've heard from my portraits that he follows Harry around; maybe he was trying to sneak up and visit him? But I'm afraid that we won't know for sure until we can cure him."

They finally reached the Hospital Wing and Albus unlocked the door with ease. He then took the end of Colin's feet and carried him into the room just as Minerva took the other end. They heaved him onto the closest bed before Albus whispered to her, "Get Madam Pomfrey."

As she left, he noticed that Dilys was in her portrait at the end of the ward, looking very pale about and disturbed about something. He blinked at her in surprise before she gestured at the bed opposite him. Barely turning his head, he looked and saw that Harry was lying there, at first thought to be asleep. But then he saw that Harry was breathing very hard, signaling that he was awake and surly listening.

Just then, Minerva swept back into view, with Poppy right on her heels as she pulled her white cardigan on over her night-dress. She gasped at what she saw lying on the bed.

"What happened?" she whispered to him as she bent over Colin.

"Another attack," he answered simply. "Minerva found him on the stairs."

"There was a bunch of grapes next to him. We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter," Minerva told her.

'_It was just a possibility,'_ Albus thought. Though he had a feeling that the fearless little boy was doing more than that… maybe trying to explore the castle and find secret passages perhaps? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Harry moved very slightly. The boy raised his head a few inches… probably to get a better view of what was going on.

"Petrified?" whispered Poppy horrified.

"Yes. But I shudder to think," Minerva answered. "If Albus hadn't been on the way down for hot chocolate—who knows what might have—"

She always did think so highly of him, but this time it didn't cause him to blush with embarrassment as he stared down at the first year, his insides in knots. He felt terrible shame and anger that he wasn't able to prevent the attack. He was the Headmaster of this school and his job was to protect his students… he failed and now an innocent child had to pay the price for it.

He reached forward and with a strong tug, was able to pull the camera out of Creevey's hands.

"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" Minerva asked eagerly as she looked over his shoulder.

Not trying to get his hopes up, he opened the back of the camera… and a steam of blacken smoke and the smell of burnt film erupted from the machine.

"Good gracious!" cried Poppy stunned. "Melted!"

"What does this mean, Albus?" Minerva asked urgently, but he knew her long enough that it was just her way of saying how scared she was.

"It means," he said slowly, and painfully. He knew that his worst fears were realized and that he couldn't try to deny it any longer. "That the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."

He barely noticed Poppy cover her mouth, fear in her eyes. But Minerva just stared at him, "But Albus… surely… who?"

"The question is not who," he said as he stared back at his student's face. Guilt and fear both raging on inside him… he hated this. This feeling of helplessness…

"The question is, how…"

'_How indeed. How could you do this Tom?'_ he thought in anger.

**(Things are getting serious aren't they? I do hope that you enjoyed this chapter and I'll be putting up what happens after the dueling club as soon as I can.)**


	19. Old Faces, New Problems

**(I'm sorry, but I will need to go back and rewrite several chapters. I hope you can all understand for it will be important later on in the story. I already changed chapter 5 so I hope you can enjoy both this one and a new old one.)**

**Chapter 19: Old Faces, New Problems**

Albus didn't get any sleep at all that night. He was haunted by images of the face of Colin Creevey's frozen face… looking at him with accusing eyes as if he couldn't believe that he allowed this to happen. It wasn't until the sun had risen did he give up on the idea of sleep and got ready for the day.

He yawned as he walked into his already, sunlit office where Dilys was in her frame waiting impatiently for him.

"Morning!" he called to her and all the others. Most called back with a shrill 'morning,' but Dilys didn't even bother. She was fidgeting slightly and seemed to be both cross and worried.

"Is there something the matter, Dilys?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered. "You aren't going to believe this Dumbledore, but a house-elf visited Potter in the middle of the night!"

Albus stared at her while the other portraits goggled, and Phineas called out, "A house-elf? But they never show themselves to the students unless they go to the kitchens!"

"Please explain," Albus instructed her.

"Well, I was doing what you said Dumbledore," she said. "I was keeping an eye on Harry all night. But then, not long before you and McGonagall came in with that boy, a house-elf appeared out of nowhere! I didn't recognize him. He wasn't a Hogwarts house-elf."

"How could you tell?" Everard interrupted.

"He was wearing a disgusting looking pillowcase!" she called, wrinkling her nose. "Anyway, he seemed to be trying to help take care of Harry because he was sponging his forehead and…"

"Oh GREAT!" Phineas yelled sarcastically. "ANOTHER Potter fan!"

"Will you all shut up and let me finish?" she shouted in frustration. "Anyway, Harry woke up and Dobby—that's the house-elf's name," she added to Albus who nodded, "Seemed to be… almost telling him off that he came back to school. He wanted Harry to go back home the moment that he missed the train."

"The train?" Albus repeated confused… until understanding dawned on him.

"Yes," Dilys said seeing the thoughtful look on his face. "Dobby was the one that sealed off the entrance and made them miss the train! He said that he hid and waited for Harry and prevented the barrier from letting him and Ronald through. He said that he was doing it to protect Harry."

"I always said that house-elves were nutters," Phineas called. "They're hell of good cooks! But they aren't too bright when it comes to common sense are they?"

"But why?" Albus asked her. "Why was he trying to stop Harry from coming back to school?"

"I really wouldn't mind that idea. Be a lot less trouble," Phineas said, earning himself a stern look from Dumbledore and the other paintings.

"This has something to do with the Chamber of Secrets doesn't it?" Albus asked, dreading the worse.

"Yes," Dilys replied sadly. "That elf is just desperate to get Harry out of here. And you want to know something else? HE was the one that jinxed that bludger! When I heard that I almost shouted at him."

"Dobby was responsible for that?" Albus repeated in surprise. "Well I'm impressed. It takes a lot to surprise me, but Dobby has succeeded. But I thought that you said that he was trying to protect Harry."

"You know that elves think differently than humans," Dilys answered shaking her head. "In his defense, Dobby said that he only wanted Harry so badly injured that he would be sent home."

"Well, he obviously doesn't know the skills of Madam Pomfrey," Albus said with a slight smile. "She's never failed yet."

"Yes," Dilys said. "But our worse fears are realized! Dobby just came right out and admitted to Harry that the Chamber is open again!"

Albus's eyes suddenly lit up and he asked, "Did Dobby say who was behind it?"

"No," Dilys said sadly.

Albus sighed, trying not to feel too disappointed and asked, "How did Harry react to all this?"

"Oh, he was very angry when he heard that Dobby was the one behind the barrier and the bludger. But he just couldn't seem to stay angry at the little elf for long. I don't blame him, he looked so pathetic that I couldn't seem to hold onto my anger either."

Albus nodded, putting that aside for later, "And the Chamber?"

"He asked Dobby about the Chamber and who was behind it. But Dobby didn't seem to be able to tell Harry much. But he did say that 'dark deeds were planned here.' He said that Harry shouldn't be here where it's happening and begged him to go back home."

"And what did Harry say to that?"

"What do you think he said?" Dilys asked, getting annoyed. "He told the elf no. But before anything else could happen, that's when you and McGonagall came in."

Albus went to his desk and thought long and hard about all this new information. Whoever was behind this, clearly was targeting—not only Muggleborns—but Harry as well. Which could only that it was indeed Voldemort who was behind this, the question is how is he doing this?

"But why would Potter be in danger?" Phineas asked bored. "I mean… isn't the kid a half-blood?"

"Yes," Albus replied. "But this isn't a matter of blood. This is a matter of revenge… the only question is how is this possible?"

None of the other portraits could make heads or tails of that commit.

_*Several weeks later*_

"Headmaster," Severus' voice ground out impatiently, "You do understand the problem we have now don't you?"

"Oh yes, Severus," Albus responded. "I'm just not myself today. I assure you, I find this new information troubling. Please humor me and explain exactly what happened at the Dueling Club this evening?"

"I already told you," his annoyed Potion's Master exclaimed. "That idiot Lockhart was trying to attempt to show off again and…"

But before he could go any further there was a loud knock on the door followed by the unmistakable shout of "Albus? Severus? Are you both in there? I want to talk to you about what happened at my Dueling Club!"

The eyes of both men twitched horribly at that voice and Severus let out an impatient snarl. "I'm still going to follow up on my idea to poison him."

"Come in, Lockhart. Come in," Albus called though he was wishing that the man would just go away. He had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from telling the man off. Lockhart strolled into the room as if it was his own office with a showy swish of his deep baby-blue robes and a beaming smile like he was expecting reporters to be in there.

"Evening Lockhart," Albus said, "From what I've heard, apparently your Dueling Club didn't turn out as well as you had hoped. Severus here was just about to tell me what happened. Now if you could just leave and…?"

Lockhart showed no signs that he had heard Dumbledore and barely noticed Severus as he pushed him aside. Albus privately thought that Lockhart would have to be both deaf and blind not to notice the mutinous look on Severus face.

"Yes, Dumbledore," Lockhart exclaimed with a glowing smile. "I just thought that maybe you would prefer to hear an explanation from me. I am known around the world for having a perfect memory."

"Funny," Severus growled thought his teeth. "When you were at school, you kept forgetting to look where you were going and ended up walking into the walls half the time."

Apparently, Lockhart didn't hear him. "It was rather shocking thing, after all, for anyone not experienced in such matters as I. But that is natural! After all, I have seen and done many impressive things don't you both agree?"

Seeing that Lockhart was about to go into a long story about some of his '_amazing'_ feats, he interrupted, "Yes, now why don't you both tell me what you each saw?"

"Of course, Headmaster," Severus said with a grimace. "Like I was telling you before, we were just getting over Lockhart's… ah… less than impressive performance and were just getting to teaching them something useful."

"Now, Severus," Lockhart said with that annoying smile. "I thought that we went over this. I just let you attack me to show the students…"

"I see," Albus said, wanting to get this conversation over and done with as soon as possible.

"As I was saying," Severus went on with a glare for Lockhart. "I thought it would be a good example to have a demonstration pair with Potter and Mr. Malfoy."

"You chose those two?" Albus asked shaking his head. "I'm surprised at you Severus. I thought that you would know better than to match them up."

Severus just shrugged and went on as if no one said anything. "During the duel, Mr. Malfoy seemed to feel that Potter's reckless and impulsive nature needed to be taught a lesson. So, by accident, he conjured a snake. Very extraordinary for a second year, and seemed to be trying to get Potter to stop."

This, Albus highly doubted… especially after what his portraits had reported to him. They told him from what they could see, Malfoy was the one playing dirty and it was Severus who told him to conjure the snake. But he let this all slide.

"Lockhart here," Severus continued, "Didn't vanish or remove the snake by normal means. All he managed to do was make it even angrier, and it started to go after Finch-Fletchley. So when I stepped forward to protect the students…"

"And that's when it happened!" Lockhart interrupted excitedly. Truthfully, Albus was surprised that Lockhart was able to keep quiet for that long. "You should've seen it Professor! I, of course, could've gotten rid of it in no time at all. But I thought that I should let Severus handle it. Didn't want to show him up of course!"

Severus began to finger his wand lovingly, as though longing to curse Lockhart where he stood.

"But just before he could… Harry Potter started talking to it!" Lockhart went on and on about how he knew many languages… but to find someone able to speak the one he couldn't…

Getting frustrated, Albus said shortly, "And you are both certain of this?"

"Well, yes," Lockhart said, sounding put out that he was interrupted. "It was creepy sounding… like he was letting out strangled hisses, but there's no doubt about it! Harry Potter can talk to snakes!"

He started to pace the room. "I wonder how everyone else will take to this? Once word gets out to the public that Potter has an evil ability… well that means that his reputation will go down. But I could have also…"

Albus stood up so suddenly, that the other two couldn't help put look up. Truthfully, Albus was surprised about this… but only a little bit. Harry was a Parselmouth… and if word of this got out… it would only cause even more problems for Harry, which he didn't need.

He also had a pretty good idea that Harry didn't even realize that he spoke another language. However, if he knew the trio as well as he thought he did, then his two friends already told him about it once the excitement was over.

"We will do nothing about this, Lockhart," Albus said sternly.

"But," he gasped looking like he had been denied a great treat, "Don't you think the rest of the world needs to know?"

"I'm sure that Potter is just milking all the extra attention for all it's worth," Severus hissed, sounding like a snake himself for a moment.

Albus put his hands up to silence them both. "We will do nothing," he repeated. "I strongly believe that Harry himself hasn't recognized what this means. He is just a young boy and I see no need to blow this out of proportion."

"Blow this out of proportion?" Lockhart repeated, clearly sounding disappointed that he wouldn't be able to go to the papers with the news that he had discovered that The Boy Who Lived could speak to snakes. "But Dumbledore…"

But Albus heard enough of this from Lockhart. He stared coldly at him and said, "That is final. We do nothing. You both make it sound like Harry has just committed murder or something terrible."

"But he was telling the snake to attack, Finch-Fletchley!" Lockhart said, desperate for any excuse to go to the papers.

"None of us know what Harry said to it," Albus said with a firm tone. "For all we know, he could've just been asking it what time it was. No, lay it aside gentlemen. This is nothing worth getting upset over. Now why don't you both return to your duties?"

Albus finished with such a hard look that not even Lockhart was foolish enough to question him. He looked dispirited for a brief moment before his smile returned to his face. "If you insist, Albus!" he said cheerfully. "I must return to answering my fan mail anyway."

He turned and bowed himself out of the room and cried out, "I'll be sure to tell you all about the fascinating conversations I had while I traveling abroad in other countries! Many people were amazed by my gift in languages!"

They both nodded, though they felt like they rather have each one of teeth pulled out before they willingly listen to one of Lockhart's stories. Once he was gone, Albus turned back to Severus and said, "I don't know how much more of him I can take."

"Neither can I, but we are you sure about this Dumbledore?" Severus said. "Potter is a Parselmouth… which means that's there no telling how many other dark abilities he could have."

"Severus…" Albus began.

"Don't you think that maybe he requires more supervision and control?" he asked, before adding hopefully, "And less privileges?"

"I already have a pair of eyes following him all the time," Albus said firmly. "And nothing I see shows that he has the slightest desire for the Dark Arts. For goodness sake, Severus. He's only a boy."

"An arrogant, attention-seeking…" Severus started off.

"Enough!" Albus said in a loud voice. "I know what I'm doing Severus. I appreciate your concerns. But I do wish that you stop comparing Harry to James. I've told you this before… Harry is NOT James. So you can stop treating him like James."

"You could've fooled me," Severus snarled. "You know the saying? Like father, like son!"

Albus shook his head. Severus was just downright determined to see James… not Harry. Yes, Harry looked like James… but no matter what he looks like he isn't his father. No, he acts much more like Lily did. Now if only Severus could see that.

"I will try to keep a closer eye on him," Albus assured him. "But I'm afraid any more than Harry will realize that he's being watched."

Snape just grunted. "I have to go and prepare my next class," he replied sourly.

Albus nodded, though he knew that the potions master was just saying that to get away from him. "Very well. Thank you again for the information. And please come to me should you suspect anything else."

Severus gave him a short nod and left without another word.

Once he was gone, Albus leaned back in his chair and waited for his portraits to report. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Dexter appeared and said. "Well, that could've gone better."

Albus looked at him and asked, "How is Harry faring?"

Dexter gave him a sad look and said, "The boy is upset. Naturally, but now he's beginning to think that he's connected to Salazar Slytherin."

"What's wrong with that?" called the lazy voice of Phineas who yawned. "If I were him I'd be thrilled!"

"Well, you aren't him," Albus said calmly. He turned back to Dexter and asked, "Is that all?"

"Granger and Weasley both told him about how the old snake could talk to snakes himself and Harry's upset about that. Now he thinks that he's Slytherin's descendent," Dexter explained. "He doesn't know how he talked to that snake today. From what it sounded like, his words came out in English to him. He didn't even realize that he spoke a different language."

"Did he by any chance say what he said to the snake?" Albus asked interested.

"Yes," Dexter answered. "He told the snake to back off. He was trying to get the snake to leave the kid alone."

Albus nodded, unsurprised. "Where is he now?"

"In his dormitory," he answered. "I think he wanted to be alone."

"I see," Albus said thoughtfully. "Well, I think we should do that. I doubt that Harry will be going anywhere tonight, so you don't need to worry about keeping an eye on him."

"If you insist," Dexter said agreeably as he settled back in his own painted chair and looked ready for a nap.

Albus smiled slightly before he went back to his thoughts. So, Harry could talk to snakes—just like Tom Riddle can. How was this possible? The only way that you could be born a Parselmouth is if it's in the family. Neither James, nor Lily could speak it. So where did it come from?

He sat there for the rest of the evening, staring at the opposite wall, coming up with theory after another… knowing that he wasn't the only person in the castle who wasn't going to be able to sleep that night.


	20. Dark Indulgence

**Chapter 20: Dark Indulgence**

Albus was sitting in his own private study reading, _Hogwarts: A History_, for what felt like the millionth time, learning all he could on the Chamber of Secrets. He was looking for any clue that could help him solve the riddle on what was happening this year. But so far he wasn't having any luck at all.

He finally put it down and took off his glasses so that he could rub his tired eyes. He was missing something—he knew it—there was something to this mystery that was sitting right in right in front of him in plain sight but he just couldn't see it.

'_How are you doing this Tom?'_ he thought. At first he wondered if it was a Death Eater responsible for doing this… but he could only think of a select few could come up pull this off without being discovered. There's a piece to this puzzle that's dangling right in front of him but he couldn't figure it out. It was like he was stumbling around the school with a blindfold on in broad daylight.

If he could only find that one piece… that piece that explained everything, then this whole nightmare would finally be over.

At that moment, there was a slight knock on the door. He called a wearily, "Come in."

Minerva walked in looking pale and worried. "Minerva," he said as he placed his glasses back on. "What is it?"

"Terrible," Minerva said upset. "Things are getting worse. There has been another attack! A double attack!"

Albus felt himself go very white as he stood up immediately. "What happened? Who was attacked?"

"Justin Finch-Fletchly from Hufflepuff and the Gryffindor ghost Sir Nicholas, Headmaster," she said miserably. "Both of them were petrified and taken to the Hospital Wing. And then there's Potter—he was found him at the scene of the crime again."

Albus groaned at the thought of another one of his students attacked… but a ghost as well? "Flinch-Fletchly and Nick were BOTH petrified?" he repeated slowly as if just making sure he heard right. "And Harry was found with them?"

Minerva nodded unhappily. "I can't think of anything that could actually do this to a ghost, Albus! I know Potter's can't be the one behind the attacks, but I'm certain he knows something about this. It's can't be coincidence that he had been found at the scene of two attacks. You told me to let you know if I noticed anything at all and I thought it best to just bring him up here for you to question."

"You brought Harry?"

She nodded as she gestured over her shoulder at the door and said, "I left him in your office. You better talk to him, Albus."

"You didn't scare him on the way up here like you always do with every other student you bring to me?" he asked, trying to make a joke but failing.

Minerva must've understood because she put a hand on his shoulder and said, "What are we going to do? It's only going to be a matter of time before someone is killed! We can't afford to overlook anything!"

"I know," he said. "And I know that Harry didn't want to tell me anything on Halloween. I can only hope that he can tell me now. There's only one person that could open the Chamber of Secrets… but I can't figure out how he's doing it. Have you by any chance heard if Harry complained at all about his scar hurting him? I told you last year that Harry's scar hurts him whenever Voldemort is near."

"Not that I know of," Minerva said slowly. "But he doesn't really talk to me or anyone else for that matter. He only seems to talk to Weasley and Granger. I know that he's been having a difficult time because the rest of the school thinks that he's the one behind these attacks which I find ridiculous. As if a child that survived against Voldemort twice could be the one attacking students… let's not forget that one of his best friends is a Muggleborn. I think it's because of what happened at the Dueling Club. Why did you allow that fool Lockhart to set up that Dueling Club is beyond me."

"I thought that it would be fun for the students," Albus shrugged. "I thought that they would enjoy it and it might come in handy later on. But that's all water beneath the bridge now… Will you wait for me while I talk to Harry?"

"Of course," she sighed as she sat in one of his empty chair, looking tired.

Albus couldn't help but also sigh as he walked passed her and said, "You mine looking through that book for me? I must've read it a thousand times by now and I still can't figure out where the Chamber is."

She picked up _Hogwarts: A History_, but said, "If you can't find any clues from here, I highly doubt I will."

Nevertheless, she started to flip through it.

He gave her a slight nod of the head and went back to his office.

He opened the office door to meet a strange sight. Harry was standing there in front of Fawkes perch, looking terrible. His eyes were wide and the very sight of him seemed to scare Harry even more as if he thought that he was going to get in trouble for something.

As soon as he walked into the room, Harry gasped, "Professor, your bird — I couldn't do anything — he just caught fire —"

Understanding what was going on, Albus gave him a gentle smile before saying, "About time, too. He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get a move on."

He couldn't help but laugh at Harry stunned look, clearly not understanding what he was talking about. This was Harry's first time seeing a Phoenix and he felt that he better elaborate.

"Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him…" he walked over to the perch, and there was baby Fawkes poking his tiny head out of the ashes, chirping. '_Ah… Phoenixes are such magnificent creatures… no matter how much I learn about them, they just continue to amaze me,'_ he thought.

He then turned his attention back to Harry said, "It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day. He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets."

He sat back in his desk and watched as Harry calmed down. He stared at the boy who was looking nervous again, just like that night when he and Ron Weasley arrived with the car. Like when he thought like he was about to be expelled. Kids always did take things far more seriously than anyone else.

There was no doubt that Harry was hiding something from him… but before he could say another word, his door banged open and a very familiar figure came running inside.

Hagrid, looking quite deranged came in and was swinging a dead rooster around as if it was made of rubber. He then shouted out desperately, "It wasn' Harry, Professor Dumbledore! I was talkin' ter him seconds before that kid was found, he never had time, sir —"

Albus opened his mouth to reassure him that Harry wasn't in trouble, but Hagrid kept going on with feathers flying everywhere. "It can't've bin him, I'll swear it in front o' the Ministry o' Magic if I have to."

"Hagrid, I —" Albus began but Hagrid was on a roll.

"— yeh've got the wrong boy, sir, I know Harry never —"

"Hagrid!" he finally shouted to make himself heard. "I do not think that Harry attacked those people."

Hagrid stopped in his rant and the dead rooster fell to his side. Though it was hard to tell with the hood on his head but Albus could tell that he was embarrassed.

"Oh, right. I'll wait outside then, Headmaster," Hagrid mumbled before he slumped out of the room. Albus had to fight to keep the smile off his face as he swept feathers off his desk. Hagrid… you could never ask for a more loyal friend… though sometimes it was a little too fiercely.

When he turned back to Harry, who had hope back in his eyes as he looked at him."You don't think it was me, Professor?" he asked quietly, as if he was hardly daring to believe it.

"No, Harry, I don't," he said sadly. He knew that Harry nor any of his other students were capable of doing any of this. But that doesn't mean that they still didn't know anything. "But I still want to talk to you."

Albus stared at him long and hard, trying to look into his mind, trying to see what Harry was trying to hide from him. "I must ask you Harry, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me. Anything at all."

Harry didn't answer, thought this didn't surprise him in the least. He looked inside his mind to see the mental pictures of Draco Malfoy shouting that foul word on Halloween night… the images of the Polyjuice Potion that they were trying to make… how Harry could hear the voice that only he seemed to be able to hear with Ronald telling him that that it wasn't a good sign…

Ah, he could see what was really bothering Harry. How he could speak to snakes… and how he was afraid that he was Slytherin's descendant. He knew that the Potters were only related to the Slytherin line through marriage… and that line was almost completely died out. Tom Riddle was the last living descendant of Salazar Slytherin.

He was hoping that Harry would tell him about his worries so that he could put his mind at ease… but then…

"No," said Harry as he turned his head away. "There isn't anything, Professor…"

Albus sighed. If Harry refused to say anything, there wasn't much he could do to help him. "Very well, Harry," he told him. "If you are sure, then," he nodded to the door, "You are free to go."

Harry shifted guilty, and for a second, he was sure that he was about to tell him something—but it faded a second later because he said, "Thank you, sir."

Harry then turned, and almost ran to the door—leaving Albus alone to think about what he just learned. He had been secretly hoping that Harry would open up and tell him about anything that had been bothering him this year so that maybe they could complete the puzzle and figure out what was going on before another student died.

He heard a slight creak of the door behind him open, and then Minerva came out with the book in her hands.

"Did I hear Hagrid a second ago?" she asked him as she began looking around at all the feathers.

"Yes," Albus said as his mouth twitched slightly. "He's waiting outside. From what he said, he apparently heard that Harry was caught at the scene of the crime like he, himself, was at one point fifty years ago. He came in here because he was afraid that Harry would be in trouble," Albus sighed deeply.

"And the feathers?" she asked as she picked one up off the floor and examined it.

"Apparently another one of his roosters had been killed," Albus shrugged.

"Did Potter say anything to you?" Minerva prompted. She never was one to stray off topic for too long.

The only thing that Albus could do was sigh again. "Not much of anything that I didn't already know," he answered. "Harry doesn't know who is behind these attacks or what is causing them… but I see that he, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger are trying to figure it out on their own.

Minerva gave an indigently sniff. "If we cannot figure this out on our own, how do you expect three second-years to do so?"

Albus observed her over his glasses. "Don't underestimate the power of children. They are capable of doing things that adults could never do even if they live to be a thousand…"

She thought about that for a moment before asking, "What else did you find out?"

Albus stretched his stiff arms and said, "For now, I'm just going to wait and see… and hope that this all turns out for the best. Can you please send Hagrid in on your way out? I think he wants to talk to me…"

_*Christmas Day*_

Albus woke up, feeling much more cheerful then he had all year. "Merry Christmas!" he called out merrily to his portraits who all answered just as happily. Well almost everyone—Phineas just grunted like any other day.

But not even Phineas's bad mood could spoil his own at the moment. It was so good to be able to forget about the fear and confusion that had enveloped the school at least for one day.

"How is Harry doing today?" he asked them.

Armando raised his hand and said, "It was my turn to keep an eye on the boy, and I got some exciting news."

"Oh?" Albus asked brightly.

"Miss Granger has just informed the boys that the potion is ready, and they're going to try it today," he told the room. The portraits either gasped or looked impressed.

"Are you sure?" Albus asked.

Armando laughed, "That's exactly what Potter said to Granger when she told him. Yes, I'm sure. Granger is thinking up a plan to get the hairs, in any case they should be trying it later this afternoon."

Albus thought it over for a brief moment. "I see. I'll check on it myself before I head down to the Great Hall."

And he did. He checked to make sure that no one was around before he ignored the _Out of Order_ sign and walked in. It was by far the dreariest bathroom he had ever seen. Of course, it was hard to tell with all the smoke coming from one of the stalls.

Walking over to it, he opened the stall to see the cauldron perched on top the toilet and he got a much better look at the thick, dark muddy potion that was bubbling. Yes, he could tell right away that it looked exactly like it should and he quickly left, hoping that everything would turn out for the best.

_*Later that day*_

He had returned back to his office, feeling like he was about to burst from all the food and was even starting to feel sleepy. But curious about how the potion worked and what they found out he waited for Armando to appear and fill him in. As he waited he looked through some old files on some of the students who already passed through Hogwarts fifty years ago. Recognizing every name, he remembered some with pride—others with sadness and disappointment.

He flipped through them all until he found the one that he was looking for.

**Student:**

Tom Marvolo Riddle

**Born:**

31 December, 1926 at Wool's Orphanage, London.

**House:**

Slytherin

**Blood status:**

Half-blood

**Occupation:**

Prefect

Head Boy

**Wand:**

13½", Yew, phoenix feather core

"Oh, Tom…" he whispered. "Just where did it go all wrong?" He knew that there was something wrong about that boy the day that he met him at the Orphanage.

It was too much… thinking what happened to him and what he done… and what he became after he left school. All Albus could think of was what could he have done to stop all this? He hated himself for not being able to do more to stop Tom from becoming what he is now.

A phantom… a creature that can't even be called a human anymore.

"Dumbledore?" called Armando's voice. He looked up from the file to see Armando looking amused.

"Armando…" he called. "Tell me, how did it go?" He remembered seeing Hermione Granger running to the Gryffindor table and quickly talking to the boys before she went running off again. Harry and Ron soon got up and left as well and he was sure that they were going to use the potion. He decided to wait another few hours before he came back and waited for a report.

"Well," Armando stated slowly. "It could've gone better."

"I knew it!" Phineas said. "I knew that they would mess it up!"

"Oh, no," Albus said shaking his head. "What happened?"

"Well, Granger came up with a brilliant plan to get the hairs," he said. "They took some from Mr. Crabbe, and Mr. Goyle… they're Malfoy's best friends they figured that he would tell them everything. Anyway, they filled a couple cakes with a Sleeping Draught and once they were out cold they hid them in the broom cupboard before heading back to the bathroom."

Albus nodded. "That's an impressive way to get the hairs," he said. "And I guess that it worked? I check on the potion and everything was looking like it should."

"Well, two boys went in," Armando explained. "And two came out… and they weren't the boys that went in."

"Excellent," Albus said… but then he frowned and said, "But what about Miss Granger? Wasn't she going as well?"

"I… ah… I'll get to that in a minute," Armando said.

"Oooh, what happened?" Phineas called, finally looking interested.

"I'll get to that in a minute!" Armando called. "Anyway, I followed Potter and Weasley—looking like Crabbe and Goyle—and they wandered around in the dungeons for about about half an hour before Mafloy finally found them and they slipped into the Slytherin common room."

"They didn't know how to find the common room?" Albus asked with his eyebrows raised. "I thought that they would have had that all figured out."

"So in other words they're hopeless," Phineas added.

"Well," Armando said in their defense, "Even if they did know where it was they wouldn't have known the password. Anyway, I followed them inside… you know there are hardly any portraits in there."

"I have a portrait down there!" Phineas said coolly.

"But you didn't want to do it," Albus stated before turning his attention back to Armando. "So what did you find out?"

"Well, you were right about Malfoy not being the one responsible," Armando told him. "He doesn't know who the one behind the attacks is. But they did find out that the Chamber was opened fifty years ago."

"Ah," Dexter said. "So they were given another clue."

"That will surely lead them to more trouble and rule-breaking," Phineas said sourly.

"I have to say that Malfoy boy is truly horrid!" Armando said with a frown and sounded livid. "He said that he actually hoped that Granger is killed next!"

Albus frowned. He knew that the blame truly lied with Lucius Malfoy teaching his son to think like this. But to hear a student would actually wish for another child's death…

"What happened next?"

"Well," the painting went on. "Malfoy's got a bit of a big mouth. He came out and said that he has a secret room beneath his family's drawling room filled with items of the Dark Arts."

"Bet Ronald Weasley was glad to hear all that," Albus said with a slight smile.

"I heard him say that he was going to write to his father and tell him that," Armando said laughing. "Anyway, they ran out of there once they saw their hour was up. They went back to the bathroom to tell Granger what they learned… and…"

"And…?" Albus said, waiting to hear more.

"Well—you see…" he said slowly.

"Out with it already!" Phineas said annoyed.

"She took some of the potion as well," Armando told them, and he seemed to be fight the urge to smile and frown at the same time. "But she put in the wrong hair… it was… it was a cat hair."

Albus stared at him as Phineas started to laugh harshly. "A cat hair! I thought you all said that she was the smartest witch of her age! But she couldn't even put the right hair in a potion! Oh, that is hilarious. Tell me, did she get a tail?"

Armando gave him a glare before he said to Albus, "It took some time for the boys to convince her to leave the bathroom. But she's now in the Hospital Wing."

"And what did they tell Madam Pomfrey?" Albus asked.

"They all told her that she was trying some advance Transfiguration and it went wrong," he said shrugging.

"Did she believe that?"

"You know Poppy," he said with a shrug. "Doesn't like to ask too many questions."

Albus laced his fingers together and lay his head on them to think about all this. So—Harry now knew when the Chamber was last opened… he wasn't sure why he felt that it was important for his students to learn all this, especially if it meant that they might get into trouble because of it… but like he told Minerva. Children have the potential to go beyond any adults wildest dreams. He could only hope that this won't end badly.

**(Yay… another chapter down. Well, I thought that I should let you all know that there will be 2 maybe 3 chapters left of the Chamber of Secrets and then we'll go straight onto Prisoner of Azkaban. And for those of you who have been asking, yes—I intend to do all the books—up to the final scene with Dumbledore at King's Cross Station in book 5. I hope you intend to stick with this story up till then… until then, please enjoy.)**


	21. Far from Home Free

**Chapter 21: Far from Home Free**

Several weeks after that memorable Christmas, the rest of his students returned to school. He had his portraits keeping close eyes on not just Harry, but Hermione as well, making sure that she was getting better from her furry problem.

Dilys gave him reports that she was recovering… slowly, but recovering well while in the hospital. Her two friends visited every single day with her homework and Dilly told him every detail about their conversations, which he found to be very interesting. At least it was much more interesting than what he was doing right now.

Albus went to his desk and pulled out a quill as he began to write, yet another letter to Fudge trying to explain to the man for the hundredth time that he was suspecting the wrong person. The minister had been writing to him for almost a month now, telling him to remove Hagrid from the school and Albus wasn't going to stand for it. He had been telling him over and over again that there was no possible way that he would ever believe that Hagrid was the culprit.

While he was right, Dilys was talking, "That Hermione has got it real bad. That smarmy bloke Lockhart gave her a _'Get well card'_" she made air quotations in the air at those last three words, "And she sleeps with it underneath her pillow!'

Albus couldn't help but laugh at that. "She's young," he told her through his chuckles. "It's just a small crush, it won't last long… hopefully."

"But still…" she said with a roll of her eyes. "Oh, by the way, Filch threw another fit today. Something happened right where he's been standing guard—you know? Where the message on the wall still is."

Albus felt his insides freeze as he looked up at her. "There hasn't been another attack has there?" he asked urgently.

"No, no, no," she said quickly, which caused Albus to breathe a sigh of relief. "Nothing like that. But it looks like Moaning Myrtle caused the second floor to flood again. I should warn you that Filch is planning to come here tonight to complain to you… again."

"As long as none of my students are harmed in anyway," he told Dilys, "Then I'll be happy to listen to whatever Argus has to complain about. Is there anything else that you need to tell me?"

"Nothing important," she said. "Harry and Ron both went into the bathroom again to find out what was going on. Apparently from what I heard, someone threw a book at Myrtle."

Albus nodded, glad that nothing more had happened, but also a little disappointed that they weren't any closer to figuring all this out. But as long as there weren't any attacks he could be satisfied for now.

_*Several days later*_

Dexter came running into his painting as Albus was going over another letter that he received from Fudge telling him that, as the minster, he had to be seen doing something. Albus shook his head disdainfully, _'Even if that meant sending an innocent man to Azkaban?' _

For one brief second, Albus was considering sending a Howler to him, just to make him stop with these letters.

"Oi! Dumbledore!" Dexter called.

That got Albus's attention. He looked up in surprise and called out, "Yes? What is it Dexter?"

"A surprising turn of events, Dumbledore!" he called back. "Our trio found out about Tom Riddle!"

Dumbledore blinked, taken aback. How in the world did they come across Voldemort's real name? Hardly anyone knew that Voldemort was born as Tom Riddle… he knew that Tom was the real culprit behind the attacks fifty years ago, but he never had any proof to back it up.

And yet here were his students, finding out the name of the very person responsible…

"How did they find out about Tom?" he asked Dexter quickly, hoping for any information that he could get.

"From what I overheard, they found his name in an old, blank diary."

"A diary?" Phineas repeated incredulously. "That's a bit girly isn't it?"

"What does the diary have to say?" Albus asked Dexter. "And where did they find it? It might be dangerous."

"It doesn't appear to be," he told Dumbledore shaking his head. "I think it's the same book that someone threw at Myrtle the other day."

"Why should that upset that sobbing specter?" Phineas demanded with a sneer. "It can't hurt her."

"That doesn't mean that she doesn't have feelings, Phineas," Albus told him, before turning back to Dexter. "What else?"

Dexter shrugged. "All they found was Riddle's name. That's it. They don't know who Tom Riddle really is yet… I mean not too many people do know. But the diary doesn't seem to be dangerous. There's nothing written in it. Miss Granger tried a few spells, and even a Revealer but nothing happened. I think that it's just an empty book. But they went to the trophy room to find out more about Riddle. They found his award… which I think you should've gotten rid of a long time ago… but they also found his name on the list of old Head Boys. Nothing too special…"

"But still," Albus said to himself. "They now know about Riddle. I want you to watch them like a hawk and report to me on anything else they find or say about this. Especially that diary… I have a bad feeling about this."

That evening, things started to look up. Madam Pomfrey told him that the Mandrakes were growing up fast and that the students in the hospital should be up again by the end of the year. That news and the fact that the attacks seemed to have stopped for now, had given him more hope than he had all year.

_*A few weeks later*_

It's been several weeks since the last attack, and things seemed to be returning to normal. Or rather to the closest thing you can get to normal at Hogwarts. In fact, Lockhart came to him about a week ago and asked him if it would be possible for him to plain a little something special for Valentine's Day. He seemed to think that the attacks are over with and that he wanted to plan something fun for the students.

Lockhart didn't say what it was he was planning, but Albus was wishing that he questioned it more before he gave him permission.

By the time he got down to the Great Hall on February 14th, he didn't even recognize it. The walls were all covered with large, pink flowers, with little heart-shaped confetti falling from ceiling like snowflakes and covering the tables and floors. He walked up to the high table, where Severus glared at the flowers like he was about to be sick, and Minerva's eye was twitching. His other teachers were all looking like they wished that they could be anywhere but here—all except for one.

Lockhart stood up and was dressed in bright pink robes to match the decorations, and he waited until all the students had come down for breakfast for him to make a speech.

"Happy Valentine's Day! And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all — and it doesn't end here!"

Just as Albus was thinking what else could possibly happen next, a dozen grumpy dwarfs came matching in with golden wings attached to their backs, and carrying tiny harps. As he looked at them, he just had to wonder what on earth Lockhart had to do to get them to agree to this.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids! They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Filius hid his face in humiliation while Severus's hands clenched tightly before he threw a glare at him. As if he thought it was his fault that there was now confetti on his eggs. Albus gave him an apologetic glance, trying to tell him silently that he had no idea that this was what Lockhart had planned.

Once the students all left for their classes, he approached Lockhart and asked him, "I thought that you said that you were planning something _small_?"

Lockhart just grinned widely and said in a loud, carrying voice, "Now Albus! It's Valentine's Day! This is the day for celebration!"

"Yes," Albus said, forcing himself to be patient. "But this wasn't what I had in mind."

"But don't you think that the students are enjoying themselves?" Lockhart said as if he thought that Albus was a bit dim.

"The girls perhaps," he agreed, but that wasn't completely true, he noticed the sour expressions of all the boys, and even a few of the girls faces when they saw the Great Hall. Some of them even looked like they couldn't eat their breakfast without looking sick.

"Oh, they'll love it!" Lockhart cried out and thumped him on the back. "I know that this will be something that everyone will love! We need something to celebrate now that the attacks have stopped. Yes, the culprit must've been afraid that it would only be a matter of time before I caught them—so now that he learned his lesson and I think that…"

Albus quickly left before Lockhart could go on any further about himself. As he walked passed his teachers, he gave them all a silent apology as the feeling of irritation began growing inside him. Even his patience was running very short with that man.

_*That night*_

Dumbledore went back to his office after dinner, feeling worn-out. He honestly didn't know how much more of Lockhart he could take. He was wishing… and he felt somewhat ashamed for thinking it… that the curse would hurry up and get rid of him.

He sat down and took of his glasses as he leaned back in his chair, almost falling asleep.

"What's up with you, Dumbledore?" asked a cunning voice.

"Phineas," Albus groaned without opening his eyes. "Please, I am not in the mood."

"Why, that's not like you at all Dumbledore," he replied mock surprise voice. "You're always so polite that it's almost sickening."

Albus opened his eyes and his mouth, getting ready to tell him that he was too tired to talk tonight when he saw Everard looking at him nervously.

"What is wrong, Everard?" he asked tiredly.

"Well, it's Harry Potter," Everard said uncertainly.

Albus opened his eyes a little wider, sat up straighter, "Is there something wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know how they found out," Everard told him. "But they… the three of them know Hagrid's involvement with the Chamber fifty years ago."

That got Albus's attention. He almost got up and asked, "How on earth did they find out about this?"

Everard shrugged, as the other paintings also let out noises of shock. "They found out about Riddle didn't they?" he asked. "I guess it was only a matter of time that they found out about why Hagrid was expelled as well."

Dumbledore thought this over before inquiring, "Do they really think that it was Hagrid who did it?"

"To be honest," Everard said with a wave of his hand, "They aren't sure what to think. I overheard Harry telling the other two about what he thought of this. He doesn't find it difficult to believe that if Hagrid heard that there was a monster somewhere in the castle then he would've done almost anything to get a glimpse of it. But at the same time he doesn't believe that Hagrid had actually killed anyone. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure they know what to believe. They talked about this for a long time before they finally went to bed."

Albus got up and began to pace the room. Just what was going on? How on earth did they find out about this? He knew that it there was no possible way that it was from Hagrid, he never talked about this to anyone. Someone had to have told them…

If he had to be honest with himself, he felt a little jealous that a group of children were having more luck finding information about this than he and the rest of his staff were. "I'm afraid," he said at last, "That there's not much we can do at this point. Just keep following them around like always. Especially tomorrow, I want to know what they plan to do."

_*Several months later*_

Everard had come to Dumbledore the next morning and told him that after a long argument, the trio decided that they wouldn't ask Hagrid about this unless there is another attack. Several months had passed after that, and things had quieted down considerably. His portraits kept informing him that nothing unusual was happening that Harry hadn't heard from the disembodied voice and the Mandrakes were almost ready to revive the ones who had already been attacked.

He was particularly interested when Armando came to him and informed him when the second-years were choosing their classes for their next few years. Harry and Ron both signed up for Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination while Hermione had signed up for all the classes.

"You can truly allow a young girl to sign up for _all_ of the classes?" he asked with concern. "That's much too much for one child to take in."

Albus shrugged. "We'll just have to wait and see. She's a little too eager, Armando, maybe once she thinks about it some more, she'll drop some subjects."

"But she's Muggleborn! Why would she want to take Muggle Studies?"

He shrugged again. "That will be something that will be left for Minerva to decide for her."

_*Later*_

It was the day of the Quidditch match. Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff. Albus was hoping that the game would take everyone's mind of this dreadful year and start to enjoy themselves again. But as he was shuffling around his office, Dexter came running in and yelled out, "DUMBLEDORE?"

Fearing that tone, Albus spun around and demanded, "What is it? Did something happen?"

Dexter had his hand over his heart as he panted for breath. He must've run through all the paintings in the castle just to get back.

"It happened again! Just now!" Dexter gasped out. "Potter heard that voice again!"

All his hopes that this nightmare was over with quickly disappeared. "Are you certain?" this wasn't good. Almost every time Harry heard that voice, an attack had happened shortly afterwards.

As the other former Headmasters and Headmistress let out cries of fear and anxiety, Dexter gasped "But I think that Hermione Granger figured something out!"

Albus stared. "Are you serious? What is it?"

"I don't know," he answered. "After Harry told them that he heard that voice again, she got all excited like she figured out a hard riddle and said that she needed to look something up in the library to be sure. But I think that she might've figured out what's behind these attacks!"

Phineas let out a snort of doubt, but Albus's heart sank. He laid aside the stack of parchment that he was carrying before he asked, "Is she still in the library?"

"I believe so," Dexter said, and Albus knew that Dexter didn't understand why he was looking so pale and worried. Albus didn't stop to explain, instead he left the office and headed straight down to the library. If Hermione did indeed figure something out about the Chamber, then she would certainly be the next target. He had to get down there before anything happened.

He was in such a hurry, that by the time that he reached the right floor, he almost ran down Minerva when she suddenly came out of a classroom. He stopped just in time from knocking her to the floor.

"I'm sorry about, Minerva," he said quickly before he headed straight down the corridor. But something in his voice must've let her know that something was wrong.

"Headmaster?" she repeated as she jogged beside him with a look of fear and confusion. "What is it?"

He didn't answer her, which made her look even more frightened. The two of them had just turned the last corridor… when they saw them. There, just outside the library at the opposite end of the corridor… were two black-robed figures lying still as stone.

His heart sinking, he and Minerva, who gasped in horror, sprinted to the two figures. The first victim he recognized as the Prefect, Penelope Clearwater… who lying still and stiff just as a statue. Minerva dropped down next to her as he turned his attention to the smaller, younger girl that was lying beside her.

He closed his eyes in misery… it was Hermione Granger. Her eyes were unseeing and wide open— and looking as if she was just a carving. He bent down next to her, only to realize that his knee hit a small mirror that was right next to them.

"Albus?" Minerva started, her mouth twitching as if she was going to cry. He didn't look at her or anyone else as he picked up the mirror. He looked into it to see his own white and anxious face looking back at him.

"Albus?" Minerva repeated as she looked at the mirror in his hands and then back to his face. "What does this mean?"

Albus couldn't answer her because he didn't know himself. He put the mirror into his pocket before conjuring up two stretchers for the two girls. Once that Hermione was levitated onto the second, he had just realized how Harry and Ron would react when they saw her… "I'll take them to the Hospital," he said to Minerva, "Go and cancel the match. Make sure that everyone is brought safely back to their common rooms. And…" he hesitated for a brief moment. "And bring Harry and Ronald Weasley up here. I think they need to see this."

She nodded with a pained look on her face before she turned and headed straight for the Quidditch pitch, wiping her eyes on her handkerchief. Albus took the girls up to the Hospital Wing, and explained to a horrified Madam Pomfrey what had happened. He went back to his office shortly after that, wanting to be alone. The feeling of failure and guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders.

**(Yeah, the Chamber of Secrets is almost done! I think that there's going to be 2 more chapters before we move onto the prisoner of Azkaban. Hope you intend to stick through until then. Hope **


	22. Tempting Fate

**Chapter 22: Tempting Fate**

Albus sat alone in his office for a long time, waiting for the Minster to arrive. Cornelius Fudge had heard of this latest attack and informed him that he would be coming this evening to discuss what he was planning on doing. Fudge's words hadn't fooled him however, he knew right away what the minster was planning to do. He knew all too well that the only thing that Fudge cared about was making himself look good to the Wizarding community.

After all, for a long time, he had been demanding that he meet Harry… he supposed that having a good relationship with the Boy-Who-Lived would make him look better to the Wizarding world.

But that wasn't important at the moment, he knew that Fudge was coming here to talk about taking Hagrid…

He sighed, he couldn't let that happen. But without proof, there really wasn't much he could do. "At that moment, Dilys came into her painting, looking grim. "I just got back from the Hospital Wing, Dumbledore."

He looked up, expecting the worst, "And how did Harry and Ron take the news?"

She sighed unhappily. "What do you think? It could've gone better. You're lucky you didn't see the looks on their faces when they saw her. They were devastated."

Albus sighed. This whole affair was hardest on the friends of the attacked victims and he couldn't do anything to help them except wait for the Mandrake Draft to be made. "Dumbledore?" called the voice of Everard. Albus turned his attention to him and asked, "Yes?"

"I was just in the Gryffindor common room," he told him. "It looks like Harry and Ronald plan on visiting Hagrid tonight. They intend to sneak out underneath the cloak later and talk to him about what he knows about the Chamber of Secrets."

Albus gave him a short nod and thanked him. "Now be sure that you keep a very close eye on them, make sure that they get out safely."

"Why am I not surprised that you're not going to do anything about this?" Phineas called annoyed. "You always said that you never show any favoritism… but what about this? They're breaking curfew and you still insist on helping them get away with it!"

"Phineas," Albus called soothingly. "I'm sure that they aren't in any danger tonight and I'm also sure that Hagrid is going to be needing some company… if the Minister is going to do what I fear he's planning…" he shook his head, not wanting to say it. Instead he turned back to Everard and repeated his instructions. Everard gave a quick nod of his head and walked out of his painting.

"Dilys?" he asked the former Headmistress in a tired voice, "You're the only one with a portrait in the Hospital Wing, please keep an eye on all the students in there."

She nodded dully but said in a slightly exasperated voice, "If you insist. But I don't see much point. It's like watching a bunch of statues lying in spare beds."

He gave her a grateful smile and watched her leave also before turning back to his depressing mood. _'How is this happening?'_ he thought to himself for the millionth time that year. _'How is it that you can do so much damage when you don't have a body, Tom?'_

He sat there, lost in his own thoughts for a long time. Until finally, he heard a sharp knock on the door.

"Enter," he called, knowing who it must be. And sure enough the Minster of Magic, with his trade-mark green bowler hat, walked into his office with an anxious look.

"Evening, Dumbledore," he said briskly. He shut the door behind him and took of his black cloak before saying, "I assume that you received my letter that I'm coming tonight?"

"Obviously," Albus said as pleasantly as he could. "Otherwise, I would be asking you why you're here."

A slight pink blush came into Fudge's face but he said quickly, "Yes, yes… well. I'm here to talk about what you plan on doing about these attacks. I'm sure that I don't need to tell you that if they don't stop soon then I'll have no choice but to close the school. Parents will not be sending their children to a place where they could end up being sent to the hospital like your students have been lately. I've left you to deal with this problem for months now, and I thought that we were over and done when the attacks seemed to stop. But we've had two more attacks this afternoon and the public is demanding that I do something about it."

"And what do you intend on doing?" Albus asked politely, but he could feel a deep anger beginning to erupt inside him.

Fudge played with his hat for a moment before finally saying, "I'm afraid that I have no choice but to take Hagrid, Dumbledore. He's the only suspect that we have, and it's the only thing that I can think of to do."

Albus knew that was what he was planning on doing all along, but to hear the words come out of his mouth so calmly, gave him the urge to pull out his wand and curse him. But instead, Albus frowned at him and said in a much colder voice than usual, "As I have explained to you before Cornelius, I don't believe for a second that Hagrid is behind these attacks. He has already come to me and told me everything he knows about the Chamber of Secrets which, I have to remind you, isn't anymore than what anyone else knows."

Fudge nodded and said slowly, as if he thought that Albus was just being stubborn, "That maybe the case. But Hagrid's past is against him, Albus. I insist that you allow me to take Hagrid. If it turns out that it isn't him, then he'll be brought back here with a full apology."

"Sometimes an apology isn't enough to erase the harm that's been done," Albus said with sadness clearly in his voice. This was true… something he knew all too well. Once you do something to someone… good or bad… you cannot change it. When a life has been taken or damaged beyond all repair… nothing you do can make up for it. The image of his dead sister's glassy, blue eyes staring at him appeared in his mind's eye and he felt the need to cry.

But he fought his tears. Crying wasn't going to help him or Hagrid right now. "Cornelius," he said softly. "I can assure you that taking Hagrid will not do anything."

Fudge merely shrugged in a hopeless sort of way. "Consider my position, Dumbledore," he said. "Four students have already been attacked, and I must be seen doing something."

"And you think that taking an innocent man to Azkaban will help?" he asked coolly, but he could feel a slight wave of his anger beginning to show in his face.

Fudge just gave him a piteous look and said, "I'm sorry, Dumbledore." Though Albus could see that he wasn't sorry at all. "I have the power to have Hagrid arrested, but I don't want it to be harder than it has to be. It's only a temporary stay. If it turns out that Hagrid isn't behind all these attacks, as you believe, then he'll be release and allowed to return to his gamekeeper duties. Now I must ask that you bring me to him right away. You know that I have the power to summon Aurors here, Dumbledore."

Albus hesitated. But at long last, he stood up. He didn't have any other choice. If he refused, then Hagrid would be in even more trouble—and that wasn't what his old friend needed.

So with a sad sigh, he walked around his desk and led Fudge through the castle to the front door. But as he entered the Entrance Hall, he noticed Everard in one of the portraits. When Everard noticed him, he gave Albus a slight wave and pointed to the doors. Albus gave a quick nod of the head, showing him that he understood.

He took his time walking Fudge down to the hut, not bothering to talk to him—trying to think of a way to get Hagrid out of this. But he also knew that he couldn't change Fudge's mind if the man was so set on an idea.

Finally, they arrived at the little cabin. Feeling guilty, he knocked on the door with a heavy heart.

He heard the sounds of several light footsteps that he knew didn't belong to his gamekeeper, and he knew that Harry and Ron were inside. A few seconds later, Hagrid flung open his door with his crossbow pointing straight at his face. Mildly surprised at the crossbow, he simply said, "Good evening, Hagrid."

He and Fudge then entered the house once Hagrid had seen who it was and invited them in. Once Albus stepped inside, he looked around, trying to see if he could figure out where the boys were hiding. It was then he heard a slight gasp in one of the corners of the room and he would've smiled if he didn't feel so miserable.

Hagrid, looking pale, was starting to tremble so much that he fell into one of his chairs and was staring between the two men, fear clearly on his face.

"Bad business, Hagrid," said Fudge in a rather hurried tone, "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

"I never," Hagrid began as he looked at Albus helplessly. Albus felt his heart clenched painfully, feeling terrible that he couldn't do anything to stop this. "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir —"

Albus looked back at Fudge with a frown, hoping against hope that the man would open his eyes and see sense, "I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence."

"Look, Albus," said Fudge, shifting from one foot to the other, "Hagrid's record's against him. Ministry's got to do something — the school governors have been in touch —"

Albus interrupted him, tired of going over this, "Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest."

"Look at it from my point of view," said Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty —"

'_Your duty is to protect people,'_ Albus thought angrily. _'That doesn't include taking an innocent man away to prison.'_

At that moment, Hagrid, shaking from head to foot cried out, "Take me? Take me where?"

Refusing to meet Hagrid's eyes, Fudge only said, "For a short stretch only. Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology —"

"Not Azkaban?" croaked Hagrid in a whimpering voice that felt like a punch in the gut.

Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door. Surprised, Albus was the one to open it—only to meet possibly one of the last people on earth he wanted to see at the moment. Lucius Malfoy walked into the hut as if he owned it and gave them all a smug smile as if he just found the cure to all diseases.

He looked around at them, to see who was there and said in a cold voice, "Already here, Fudge. Good, good…"

Having Lucius here suddenly turned Hagrid from a cowering wreck to a furious fighter, "What're you doin' here? Get outta my house!" Albus couldn't hid a slight smile as Hagrid's courage began to grow.

Lucius sneered at him as he looked around the cabin with disgust. "My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your — er — d'you call this a house? I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here."

Albus could feel his anger staring to rise all over again. He stepped forward, ready to take whatever Malfoy had to dish out and said as politely as his voice allowed it, "And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?"

"Dreadful thing, Dumbledore, but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension — you'll find all twelve signatures on it," Malfoy told him with a grin as he pulled out a long roll of parchment and held it out to him. Albus looked over the list to see that all twelve names were indeed there.

"I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school."

That smug smile was making him angrier than anything else that night. He didn't need to look into Lucius's mind to see that the man was hoping that every single Muggle-born in Hogwarts was killed.

To his greatest surprise, Fudge came forward and said in an alarmed voice, "Oh, now, see here, Lucius, Dumbledore suspended — no, no — last thing we want just now."

He privately felt that, for the first time all year, Cornelius was taking sense. But Lucius said calmly, "The appointment — or suspension — of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge. And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks —"

Fudge was starting to sweat and Hagrid looked even more scared than before if that was possible. "See here, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can't stop them, I mean to say, who can?"

Lucius just gave Albus a nasty smile that he wasn't even bothering to hide and said in a silky voice, "That remains to be seen. But as all twelve of us have voted —"

"'An' how many did yeh have ter threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?" Hagrid roared, leaping back up to his feet and looking like he wanted nothing more than to throw Lucius out. Albus was couldn't help but feel a slight bit of pride that Hagrid thought so highly of him.

Lucius just took back the parchment and rolled it up, not troubling himself to look at Hagrid. "Dear, dear, you know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Hagrid. I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all."

Albus could feel his anger and distaste for the Azkaban guards rise, furious that Hagrid was being sent to such a place when he was innocent.

"Yeh can' take Dumbledore!" Hagrid yelled so loudly that Fang went to his basket and hid underneath the blankets. "Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin' next!"

'_I pray not,'_ Albus thought. He could never live with himself if something happened to one of his students just because he wasn't around. But if the governors wanted him removed, there wasn't anything he could do. He gave a quick glance to the corner where the boys were hidden before he said to Hagrid, "Calm yourself, Hagrid," but he was looking at Lucius Malfoy when he said that.

"If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside —"

Fudge was looking amazed. "But…"

Hagrid looked distraught, "No."

But Albus never looked away from Lucius. He then said very slowly and clearly so that he was sure that the two boys in the room could also hear every word. "However, you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me… Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

As he said those last few words, his eyes went to the corner where he knew that Harry and Ronald were hiding, trying to let them know that they weren't going to be alone, and he hoped that they would understand.

Lucius Malfoy looked briefly astonished before he made a mock bow and said, "Admirable sentiments. We shall all miss your — er — highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope your successor will manage to prevent any — ah — killins."

He strode to the cabin door, opened it, and bowed Dumbledore out. Albus in the meantime could hear Fudge and Hagrid behind him saying something, but he was so lost in his thoughts again that he didn't hear them. He looked up at the castle that he considered to be his home… wondering what was going to happen now.

He went back up to his office to take just a few personal items as Fawkes, fully grown now, let out a sad cry. Smiling at the beautiful bird, he stroked the feathers and said quietly, "I'll be back soon. Until then, take care of the school for me."

Fawkes just let out a musical note, as if trying to tell him not to worry and he'll take care of everything. Then, Albus turned and left the school… but he didn't go as far as you would think.

_*The Hog's Head*_

Aberforth just gave his brother an annoyed look. "I thought that you were ordered to leave Hogwarts," he said suspiciously.

Albus just gave him a small smile. "Indeed," he answered. "I _was_ order to leave the _school_. But Hogsmeade isn't part of Hogwarts now is it?"

Aberforth just rolled his eyes. "Do whatever you want, Albus," he said. "But just remember that I don't care who you are. You're going to be paying for your room here just like anyone else."

Albus nodded and held up his goblet of mead and said, "I would be worried if you said I could stay here for free." His brother just gave him another annoyed look before he turned and left the room.

Albus sighed as he looked up to the empty canvas on the wall and waited. A few minutes later, Armando Dippet appeared, looking flustered. "I can't believe that Malfoy character thinks that removing you can do anyone any good apart from himself. You know… I overheard some people saying that he threatened all the other governs if they didn't agree to suspend you in the first place, Dumbledore."

Albus waved his hand. "Yes, I had an idea that was the case. However, I'm afraid that there wasn't anything else I could do." He sighed again before saying, "While I'm gone, I want you to keep an extra close eye on Harry and his friends, alright? And keep me updated with any news that they might discover."

Armando nodded. "We won't let them out of our sights." He then turned and walked straight out of the painting, leaving Albus alone in the little inn, wondering how things were going to turn out.

_*A few weeks later*_

Albus was still sitting at the small table at his brother's inn. He was reading a magazine of knitting patterns in his room when Dexter came running in the empty portrait and cried out, "Dumbledore!"

Albus wasn't expecting a report so early in the morning and jumped at the voice. "Dexter?" he asked worriedly, noticing the anxious look on his face. "Please don't tell me that there was another attack…"

"No!" Dexter cried out. "It was Potter and Weasley! They… I can't believe they did this… but you see, before they took Hagrid, he told them that if they wanted to find out more about what happened fifty years ago all they had to do is follow the spiders into the forest!"

Albus felt himself go pale, "Don't tell me…"

"What do you think happened?" Dexter yelled out. "They followed the spiders and went into the forest to talk with the Acromantulas! From what they said, they would've been killed if the car didn't arrive and get them out of there."

Albus blinked, startled, "Car? Do you mean the flying Ford Anglia?"

"The very same," Dexter said in astonishment. "When they crashed into the Willow, the car went off on its own. Turns out that it's been roaming around in the forest this whole time and somehow became wild! And apparently it saved them from the spiders."

Albus stared at him in amazement, he didn't know if he should laugh or not. The irony was too funny… if they didn't fly that car then they would've died last night. He was just so amazed by this that he wasn't sure how to react. Finally, he said in a stunned voice, "But they're ok now aren't they?"

"As well as they can be," Dexter told him, staring to calm down. "I know that Ronald Weasley's going to be having nightmares for a long time. But they're alive and unscathed if that's what you want to know. They also found out that Hagrid was framed for the attacks fifty years, and they think that they might have figured out who the last victim was!"

"Oh, so you mean they found out about Myrtle?" Albus said. He knew all along that Moaning Myrtle was the Muggle-born that was killed fifty years ago. He went to ask her, himself, what it was that killed her several times already. But every time he did, she always starting crying and said that she couldn't remember anything that happened before telling him to get lost. Nonetheless, he was impressed that they came this far. It seems like the trio were doing a better job than he and his whole staff put together.

"Yes," Dexter replied. "They're trying to think of a way to sneak off and talk to her."

"I wish them luck," Albus said with a nod. "Myrtle isn't going to talk to just anyone. Is there anything else that you need to tell me?"

He nodded, "Everything is going as normally as possible. The students will be starting their exams just next week, and the students who have all been petrified should be fixed up by the end of this one."

Albus let out a sigh of relief. Knowing that his students will be safe by the end of the week warmed his heart more than any amount of Firewhisky could do. "Good. Come back to me if you learn anything else. Keep up these little reports, and let me know how that talk with Myrtle goes."

Dexter saluted and walked out.

**(Sorry for taking so long… but I've been having a little bit of writer's block lately and it hasn't been easy to write this. But now I have everything figured out. I have one more chapter and an epilogue for the Chamber of Secrets and then I'll be moving straight to the Prisoner of Azkaban. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and the next one will be going up as soon as I finish it.)**


	23. Mystery Solved

**Chapter 23: Mystery Solved**

Albus was finally back in his office after at least a month of living in the Hog's Head. However, his feelings weren't of happiness or relief of being back in the familiar circular office. No, they were feelings of failure and despair crashing over him like cold waves. It was hard to believe that he had been sitting at the Hog's Head only a few hours ago just to receive wonderful… and then later on… terrible news.

_*Flashback* _

_Albus was slowly losing his mind from being stuck in this room. It had already been a few days since he had heard from any of the portraits and he was wishing that he was back at his office with something to do. He got up from his table and stretched, getting up to pour himself just a little bit of oak-matured mead—when it happened._

"_ALBUS!" screamed out a female voice from the wall, making him jump, almost spilling his glass. He looked up to see Dilys standing there looking excited as she leaned against the side of the painting, gasping for breath. But before he could greet her, she called out, "THEY DID IT! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! THEY ACTUALLY DID IT!" _

_Albus didn't have a clue to what she was talking about. "Who did what, Dilys?" he asked calmly._

"_Harry, Ron, and Hermione!" she called out, her eyes shining with excitement. "They figured out what's in the Chamber of Secrets, how the students all became petrified, and even have an idea where the Chamber is!"_

_Albus dropped the goblet of mead. The liquid slashed all over the table, but he didn't pay any attention to it. Instead, he demanded, "What has happened? How did they figure it out?"_

_She was beaming, "Harry and Ron came to the Hospital Wing to see Hermione! You remember that day she was attacked? She went running off to the library? Finally found out what she was up to! She found out that the monster in the Chamber… is a Basilisk!_

_A Basilisk… he slapped a hand over his, feeling so idiotic for not seeing it sooner. He remembered reading about that monster himself years ago…_

_**Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.**_

"_I know!" Dilys cried out happily at his stunned expression. "I was in my portrait, watching the victims on your orders… and then they just came in! McGonagall gave them permission to see Hermione, and they were just sitting there by her side when Harry said that there was a piece of paper in her hand! And it explained everything about the Basilisk; Harry put it all together! That voice that he's been hearing all over the place? It was the snake! That's why he could hear it and no one else has! He's a Parselmouth!"_

"_The Basilisk," Albus said, excitement rising up inside him, "Kills by looking it's victims in the eyes. But no one's dead because nobody did look it in the eye—well not directly at least. The only way of surviving a Basilisk's gaze is by seeing it through another object or… or a reflection…"_

"_That's what Harry said," Dilys shouted. "He figured it all out. The cat? There was water on the floor that night remember? She only saw the snake's reflection! Creevey saw it through his camera! Finch-Fletchley saw it through Nick, Nick was already dead, and Hermione and Clearwater saw it in that mirror that was lying next to them! That boy has got some brains in there somewhere!"_

"_And I never thought of it," Albus said with a bitter smile. "It was right in front of our faces this whole time, and I never saw it! The crowing of the rooster is fatal to it! All of Hagrid's roosters were killed! Spiders fleeing the castle and the Acromantulas afraid to speak it? It all fits perfectly!"_

"_They also figured out how the snake's been getting around Dumbledore!" she called out happily. "Hermione wrote down the word 'Pipes' on that paper!"_

"_Pipes!" cried out Albus. "Of course, it's been using the plumbing! It's so clear, so simple; I can't believe that we never thought of it before!"_

_He felt the need to smack himself for not seeing all this before. Really, what was the matter with him? He looked up to Dilys and asked quickly, "You said that they have an idea to where the Chamber is?"_

_She continued to smile, "They think it's inside the second floor girl's bathroom! The place where the last victim of the Basilisk died!"_

_Albus had to laugh, it wasn't because he thought that it was funny, but he laughed rather out of the irony. The chamber had been right in front of him this whole time but he never put two and two together._

"_What do they intend to do?"_

"_They're going straight to McGonagall. You should be hearing from her soon!"_

_*End of Flashback*_

Yes, he did receive news from McGonagall. But not any of the good news that he had expected. Instead, he received word from, not only Minerva about the tragedy that had just happened, but also from eleven of the twelve governors to return to Hogwarts as soon as possible.

His worst fears had just been revealed… one of his students was taken from the school and right into the Chamber of Secrets.

Ginny Weasley…

Oh, poor Arthur and Molly. They were going to be devastated when they heard this.

He returned to his office about half an hour ago and was preparing to go downstairs to the front doors where the Weasleys were going to meet him. He got up from his seat and was about to leave when something unexpected happened. Fawkes, who had been chirping sadly from his perch let out a loud cry of triumph.

Startled, Albus looked up to see Fawkes take flight. He flew over to the shelf where the Sorting Hat sat and grabbed it with his golden talons before vanishing in a giant fireball.

Albus stared, for a second, not understanding what was happening until he heard Armando's voice calling out to him. "Albus! It's Potter and Weasley! They went down into the Chamber of Secrets!"

The other portraits let out cries of amazement and incredulity; Phineas Nigellus actually snorted.

"They didn't!"

"There is no way!"

"They could be killed down there!"

"You can't be serious!"

"Impossible!"

"You honestly expect some brats to find a Chamber that was built the great Salazar Slytherin himself?"

"ENOUGH!" Albus shouted to make his voice heard over the cries. He turned back to the previous Headmaster and demanded, "What has happened? How do you know they went into the Chamber?"

"I saw them!" he shouted in a dumbfounded tone. "I was keeping an eye on Potter like your orders said and they decided to go and tell Lockhart what they knew about the Chamber."

"Why Lockhart?" asked Dexter.

Armando shrugged. "Lockhart was supposed to go and find the Chamber tonight, I guess they wanted to do something to help."

"But they know better than anyone that he's a fraud!" Everard yelled.

"Yes, why ask him and not someone like McGonagall?"

"Don't ask me!" he shouted back, as he went back to Dumbledore and said loudly, "Turns out you were right all along! Lockhart has been stealing the credit from what other people have done and modified their memories so no one would complain about it. Once the boys found out, he—er—he tried to perform a Memory Charm on Potter and Weasley…"

There were more shrieks of rage from the portraits, and Albus felt his anger rise—along with a sudden desire to go and curse Lockhart within an inch of his life, but Armando went on before he could think about his bitter thoughts. "He didn't get a chance of course. Potter disarmed him and dragged him along with them to Myrtle's bathroom about half an hour ago. That's where they thought think the Chamber is."

"And you're telling me this only now?" Albus said in a calm, yet cold and annoyed voice.

"I didn't really think that the Chamber of Secrets was actually in there!" he said defensively. "I waited outside for them to come back at for at least 20 minutes before I finally realized that there was no way that they could be taken that long unless… unless they truly found the Chamber."

He shrugged in a helpless sort of way. "I finally came up here when I heard Snape and McGonagall saying that you were back when they walked passed. I don't know what to do and…"

"Fawkes," Albus said suddenly as a smile spread over his face.

"What?" Armando asked him confused.

"Fawkes, just disappeared," he whispered as he walked around his desk to look at the perch where Fawkes usually stood, becoming lost in thought. He left his office soon after that, after telling Armando to continue to keep watch on Myrtle's bathroom and to let him know when they come out. He was scared for the boys, yes, but he knew that they were in safe hands. He knew that Fawkes would take care of them.

And yet… why did he feel like someone was squeezing his heart? Why did he feel a moment of pure panic when he heard where Harry had gone? He suddenly had an intense desire to speed off to the second floor and see if they were alright. Just what was the matter with him? He knew that the boys were safe now that Fawkes was there… the phoenix won't let anything happen to them… so why did he feel so afraid?

He had gone down to the Great Hall, where he saw Molly and Arthur Weasley, who were beside themselves with grief. Molly half-shrieked as she demanded to hear the whole truth from him and what happened to her daughter as Arthur looked as though he had been turned to stone. Minerva came down just as Albus tried to comfort them and together, they took the Weasleys up to Minerva's office to tell them everything that they've been told.

Molly sank into an armchair in front of the fire and cried her eyes out as Albus and Minerva tried everything they could think of to comfort her. Arthur just stood there, staring at the flames, but not really seeing it—his expression hardened, and he looked as if he had aged a thousand years of misery.

About half an hour of this, Albus heard Armando's voice call out from an empty picture on Minerva's wall. "Dumbledore!" he called out with a look of pure astonishment on his face, the two teachers looked at him. "They're coming!"

Albus knew right away who _they_ were. A feeling of utter relief had swept through his body like the world's best Firewhisky. He had never felt as light-hearted as he did at that moment.

"Who's coming?" Minerva asked him through bloodshot eyes.

"I'm sure that we're about to find out," Albus whispered to her as a smile spread across his face. And sure enough, a few minutes later, the door had opened to reveal Harry Potter—covered in slime and blood while carrying a blood-stained sword and the Sorting Hat, Ron and Ginny Weasley—both pale and dirty while Ginny was crying, and to his surprise—Lockhart with a dazed off expression on his face like he didn't have the slightest clue to why he was there.

Albus beamed at them all, at Harry especially, knowing that he was the one who had called Fawkes to him… and why. Molly had turned around to see who was at the door. Her eyes widened in disbelief and joy as she shouted out Ginny's name and flying over to embrace her daughter with Arthur right behind them.

Molly continued to cry as Minerva, gripped her robes above her heart, as if she was about to have a heart attack; a look of stunned wonder over her face.

'_Yes, these kids truly knew how to do the impossible,'_ Albus thought with amusement. It took a lot to stun his deputy Headmistress. At that moment, with a cry of happiness, Fawkes flew passed them all and over to land his master's shoulder. As Albus beamed at his oldest friend, Molly suddenly scooped the two boys up into her arms and was screaming out, "You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that," Minerva said in a weak voice. Molly let go of Harry and, after waiting for a moment—like he was afraid that someone was going to say something, he stepped forward to place the Sorting Hat, the sword of Godric Gryffindor, and what appeared to be a mostly destroyed diary.

Harry took a deep breath and said to him, "Professor? You remember when you asked me on Halloween why we were found where Mrs. Norris was?"

"Yes," Albus said softly, listening to every word that Harry was saying.

"Well…" Harry hesitated for a moment before he looked back at Ron, who nodded as he allowed his mother to hold onto him and Ginny tightly as they all listened quietly. "It was because I could hear a Basilisk in the pipes," Harry finished.

"A Basilisk?" screamed out Minerva in horror.

"That's what the monster of Slytherin was!" Harry explained quickly. "It had been slithering in the pipes all year petrifying the students! I was the only one who could hear it because it's a snake, and I can understand Parseltongue! I've been hearing it all over the place all year, but I didn't think that it would be a good idea to tell you."

"Why on earth would you think that?" Minerva demanded. Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I was afraid that you would think I was losing my mind," he admitted.

Albus felt his heart go out to the boy as he went on. "Anyway, we've been trying to find out more about the Chamber of Secrets and we… er… overheard Draco Malfoy say that the last time that the Chamber was opened was fifty years ago."

Albus fought a smile. Harry was clearly neglecting telling him about the Polyjuice potion. Which was probably a good idea because the information would have surly found its way back to Severus and he knew that his Potion's Master would be furious if he heard that kids had robbed his office.

"We heard that when the last time the Chamber was opened," Harry continued, "Someone had died and the person responsible for it was expelled. That's when we, we as in me, Ron, and Hermione, started looking to what happened back then. We then found out that Hagrid was blamed for the Chamber being opened and we went down to see him. That was after Hermione was attacked and talked to him about it. But Hagrid was taken away before he could tell us anything important."

"You mean that you snuck out in the middle of the night?" Minerva said sharply, her eyes blazing.

"We weren't thinking straight!" Harry told her. "We were upset and wanted to do something to stop the person who attacked Hermione and it was the only thing that we could think of! But before Hagrid was taken away, he told us to follow the spiders. And we did. Me and Ron followed the spiders all the way into the forest and…."

"You went into the forest!" Minerva shouted again in shock.

"Hagrid told us to!" Harry said defensively, and Albus noticed Ron shuddering in his mother's arms. He smiled, knowing just how much courage it must've taken the boys to do that. Harry took a deep breath and said, "That was where we met this giant, talking spider named Aragog, and he told us that Hagrid had been innocent and everyone thought that he was the monster attacking everyone. But you see, Aragog didn't come from the Chamber. That was when he told us that the person who died fifty years ago was found in a bathroom. So we thought that maybe it was Moaning Myrtle."

And she must've told them what they wanted. Albus was deeply impressed. He had been asking Myrtle what had killed her for years, but she always refused to tell him. She must've liked Harry for her to actually tell him what he wanted.

"But before we went to talk her, we went to see Hermione today and we found a piece of paper in her hand that was torn out of an old book! She figured out that it was a Basilisk that I've been hearing. We know why the students weren't killed. Colin Creevey saw the snake through his camera, Justin saw it through Nearly Headless Nick, Nick got the full blast of it, but he's a ghost so he can't die again."

So simple, and so obvious, Albus still couldn't believe that it took this long for him to see it for himself.

"And Hermione and that Ravenclaw saw it through the mirror that they were found with. As for Mrs. Norris, there was water on the floor that night from Myrtles' bathroom. So she only saw the reflection of the Basilisk! That's why no one died. That's when we realized that maybe, the entrance to the chamber was in her bathroom!"

"Very well," Minerva said as Harry took a second to catch his breath, "so you found out where the entrance was — breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add — but how on _earth_ did you all get out of there alive, Potter?"

Harry let out a tired sigh as he explained. "Me and Ron went down there to try and find Ginny. I used Parseltongue to open the entrance. We went down there but we got separated. So I went on ahead alone and I was able to find Ginny who was unconscious at the time," he looked back at Ginny as he said this, and Albus followed his gaze to see that she was crying—silently, but crying very hard. He felt terrible for the girl, but before he could say anything to comfort her, Harry said calmly, "That was when the Basilisk appeared." The others in the room gasped, and Albus felt his heart clench at the thought of a child actually being forced to fight something so dangerous.

"As the snake slithered out, that was when Fawkes appeared at the end of the Chamber with the Sorting hat," Harry said with a grateful smile to the bird who was still on Dumbledore's shoulder. Fawkes looked at him peacefully, and Albus knew that the bird would've smiled if he could. "I was able to pull this sword out of the hat and I was able to stab the snake. By luck more than anything I assure you," he finished with a sigh. He looked back at Ginny again, before looking pleadingly at Albus.

Albus smiled gently at him as he looked into Harry eyes, and then looking into his mind to see what it was that Harry didn't want to tell him. To his complete amazement, he saw Voldemort—as Tom Riddle standing in a dank and dimly lit chamber.

He heard the conversation that Harry and Tom had—how Tom had been using the diary to suck the life out of Ginny Weasley and forced her to commit these terrible crimes all year, how Harry's loyalty to him and the school called Fawkes to his aid, how Harry learned who Tom truly was before fighting the Basilisk, before stabbing the diary with the same fang that almost killed—thus destroying the Riddle in the diary.

He felt as if a knife had pierce his heart when he saw Harry being stabbed and nearly died down there before Fawkes came to him and healed his arm. He couldn't remember feeling more grateful that he had gotten a phoenix instead of an owl.

It was then he saw two things at the forefront of Harry's mind… Harry's worries of Ginny being blamed for all this… and his worries of how similar that he was to Tom Riddle.

Albus smiled at him gently, seeing all that he needed to see. He then said in a kind voice, "What interests me most is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."

A look of relief swept over Harry's face as Arthur stuttered and said in a strangled voice, "W-what's that? _You-Know-Who?_ En-enchant _Ginny?_ But Ginny's not… Ginny hasn't been… has she?" He was looking from him to Harry, to Ginny, trying to understand just what was going on.

"It was this diary," said Harry quickly, picking it up and showing it to him as he explained, "Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen…"

Amazed, Albus reached over and took the little destroyed book and stared at it. So this was the cause of all the fear and suffering this year? A tiny little book that you could fit inside your pocket? It was hard to believe that something so small could be so powerful… and dangerous. But then again, he looked quickly to Harry's face; size was no guarantee of power.

But what was this? This wasn't any kind of magic that he had ever heard of. A mere memory draining the life out of an innocent girl and possessing her to attack the other students? No, this was no mere memory. This was something far more sinister.

"Brilliant," he said softly. Tom continued to surprise him even after he left school. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen."

He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered and he elaborated, "Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school… travelled far and wide… sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

Indeed, if he didn't know what Tom was like as well as he did, the he too would've had trouble seeing the connection. This diary was proof that even fifty years ago, Tom was dabbling with Dark Magic to make himself more powerful. But he felt that it might be for the best not to worry the Weasleys anymore than they had already, but also to understand what happened here wasn't Ginny's fault.

"But," Molly gasped clutching her daughter closer to her. "Ginny, what's our Ginny got to do with — with — _him?_"

"His d-diary" Ginny sobbed into her mother's robes. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year —"

"Ginny! Haven't I taught you anything?" cried out Arthur, looking terrified. "What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself _if you can't see where it keeps its brain._ Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was _clearly_ full of Dark Magic!"

'_It wasn't her fault,'_ Albus thought. She's young and innocent, she had never lived through a war or dark times; she had no idea that this little book could've hurt her the way that it did.

"I d-didn't know," sobbed Ginny as more tears fell. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it —"

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away," Albus said firmly, reminding them all that now was not the time to blame anyone, but to take care of those who had been hurt. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment."

Ginny stared at him, as if she couldn't believe her ears as he finished, "Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort."

He smiled at her gently before walking to the doors and opened it for them, "Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up." He couldn't help but smile just a little wider as he said, "You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice — I daresay the Basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."

"So Hermione's okay!" Ron said brightly, surprising him a little for he hadn't said a word the whole time. Albus smiled at his obvious happiness and nodded. Ron and Harry shared a delighted look as he turned back to Ginny and said, "There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny."

'_Though I do hope that you learn to be more careful in the future,'_ he added in his thoughts.

Molly and Arthur took Ginny and left, neither one seemed to want to let go of her. Albus watched them all go, his heart feeling lighter, before saying to Minerva, "You know, Minerva, I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?"

This was definitely a call for celebration.

"Right," Minerva responded briskly as she left. "I'll leave you to deal with Potter and Weasley, shall I?"

"Certainly," he replied as she walked through the door. He turned back to the boys who were looking nervous like they thought that they were going to be punished. Nothing could be further from his mind at the moment.

"I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules," he told them, feeling the urge to laugh at their horrified expressions before saying to the pair of them, "Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words. You will both receive Special Awards for Services to the School and — let me see — yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor."

They both turned a pleasant pink color, and Ron whose mouth fell open in horror had closed as they smiled at each other. But something seemed a little off. Albus looked to Lockhart, who hadn't said a single word at all, which was a big improvement—but it wasn't like him. He would've thought for sure that he would've tried to take all the credit for this. So he asked, "But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure. Why so modest, Gilderoy?"

Harry jumped as if he forgot that Lockhart was in the room. But when they all looked at the man, he turned around as if looking to see who he was talking to.

Ron looked up at him and said quickly, "Professor Dumbledore, there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart —"

"Am I a professor?" Lockhart finally spoke up in surprise. "Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?"

Albus had to fight down a laugh, but he couldn't hide his amusement as Ron explained in an undertone, "He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired."

Well, looks like Gilderoy Lockhart finally got what was coming to him. Karma was an amazing thing. He shook his head, still fighting laughter and said as calmly as he could, "Dear me. Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!"

Lockhart looked surprise and said hazily as he pointed to Harry, "Sword? Haven't got a sword. That boy has, though. He'll lend you one."

Which brought up another important issue that Albus wanted to discuss. He could see how troubled Harry was when he looked into his mind and wanted to talk to him privately… and of course, to thank him. He turned to Ron and asked, "Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary, too? I'd like a few more words with Harry…"

Ron looked vaguely surprised, but nonetheless, the two of them left the room—Lockhart strolling through the door as though in a daze. Leaving him alone with Harry, who was looking nervous again. Albus merely gave him a kind smile as he crossed to one of the chairs by the fire and asked politely, "Sit down, Harry."

**(Another chapter down! Only one more to go for the Chamber of Secrets, and then we'll be moving straight to the Prisoner of Azkaban. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and please be kind.)**


	24. Dreams of Power

**Chapter 24: Dreams of Power**

Ron looked vaguely surprised, but nonetheless, the two of them left the room—Lockhart strolling through the door as though in a daze. Leaving him alone with Harry, who was looking nervous again. Albus merely gave him a kind smile as he crossed to one of the chairs by the fire and asked politely, "Sit down, Harry."

Harry hesitated for a second before he walked to the seat opposite from Albus and sat rigid in the chair, as if he was afraid of what he was going to say. Albus gave the young boy a kind look before saying with pride and gratitude flowing through him, "First of all, Harry, I want to thank you. You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you."

At the mention of his name, the phoenix fluttered down onto his knee and demanded to be stroked. Albus grinned at him before looking back at Harry who was also smiling in embarrassment.

Albus watched Harry as the smile slowly faded from his face to be replaced with a nervous and troubled look—as if he was lost and didn't know what to do anymore. Albus didn't need Legilimency to see what was going on in Harry's head to know what was bothering him.

"And so you met Tom Riddle," Albus said caringly. "I imagine he was most interested in you…"

'_That's putting it lightly,'_ he thought to himself. This wasn't what he had expected to happen. Harry wasn't supposed to have learned about Tom yet. He wasn't supposed to have gone through all this at such a young age. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the young boy, who looked like he was on the verge of saying something.

Harry opened his mouth once or twice, as if he was having the trouble finding the right words to express his worries. Albus waited patiently until finally, Harry was able to choke out, "Professor Dumbledore… Riddle said I'm like him. Strange likenesses, he said…"

Albus knew that this was true. Harry did have much in common with the young Tom Riddle, so much that it was almost frightening. But he also knew that there was one major difference between them that set them apart. "_Did_ he, now? And what do you think, Harry?"

He waited, wondering just what Harry thought about all this. Wondering just who Harry considered himself to be.

A look of determination came over his face and he said in a loud voice, as if he hoped the louder he spoke, the more it would make it true. "I don't think I'm like him! I mean, I'm — I'm in _Gryffindor_, I'm…"

But he trailed off as doubt came over his face. He looked a little scared as he thought something over. Albus looked at him in concern, before Harry said quickly, "Professor, the Sorting Hat told me I'd — I'd have done well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin's heir for a while… because I can speak Parseltongue…"

Albus hesitated. Wondering just what he should tell Harry. He knew that he was more prepared for this information than he was at the end of last year, but it was still too much for him to know everything yet. No, Harry was still too young to know about the prophecy, and he felt sickened at the thought of telling him that his life had been pre-determined before he was even born, just when he had come out of the Chamber of Secrets and saved Miss Ginny Weasley's life. Albus gave him another long look, wondering just what he could say to console the child. Finally, he decided on a small part of the truth.

So he then said in his most serene voice, hoping that it would help calm Harry down, "You can speak Parseltongue, Harry, because Lord Voldemort — who _is_ the last remaining ancestor of Salazar Slytherin — can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar."

He felt his heart clenched tightly at the thought of what he suspected was now inside Harry. Truthfully, this was something he had been wondering of for some time, but it wasn't until the diary—which he glanced at, still sitting on the desk—did he begin to fully realize what was happening. He looked back and said, "Not something he intended to do, I'm sure…"

A look of the utmost horror came over Harry's face and he gasped, "Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?"

As much as he hated to admit to it, that's what everything was pointing at. "It certainly seems so," he confessed to him, knowing that there was no way that Harry would be let this go.

The poor boy was looking scared and desperate as he gasped, "So I _should_ be in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin's power in me, and it —"

Albus raised his hand and interrupted evenly, trying to let Harry know that the Sorting Hat didn't make a mistake. He remembered listening in on the Hat's words just last year as Harry was being sorted, and he knew that this information must've been haunting him all year. "Put you in Gryffindor. Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue — resourcefulness — determination — a certain disregard for rules," he fought the urge to laugh at that. Though now that he thought of it, that last one could've applied for anyone in any house who had a talent for breaking rules. "Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think."

Harry was looking miserable as he said in a despairing tone, "It only put me in Gryffindor… because I asked not to go in Slytherin…"

Albus beamed; pleased that Harry said it. This was an important lesson that he needed to learn and he explained happily, "_Exactly_, which makes you _very different_ from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

Harry didn't move, he just continued to give him a confused look, and didn't say anything. But Albus understood what Harry was going through. The desperation of wanting proof of where you belonged, knowing for sure that you were in the right place—and the disappointment of having the Sorting Hat fill you with doubts.

For he, himself, had also once asked the Sorting Hat if it had put him in the wrong House. He remembered it as if it happened yesterday.

_*Flashback*_

_A much younger Albus Dumbledore was sitting in front of the current Headmaster's desk, waiting for his meeting with Phineas Nigellus to ask for something that he had been desiring for quite some time. Looking around at the room, he stared at the colors of green and silver silk walls that stood for the Slytherin House along with looking at several dark and sinister objects sitting on a table. They looked so dangerous you would've thought that they should be outlawed… which he reminded himself just might be._

_As a student, he had been in here multiple times, to receive some award or to accept congratulations from some famous witch or wizard with whom he had been in correspondence over his seven years here. This occasion, however, was completely different. Instead, he was here to ask for something that meant more to him than anything else in the world… and he sat there, his foot tapping nervously on the floor; worried about what he would do if he didn't get it._

_At long last, he could hear footsteps behind him, and he turned in his chair in time to see the door open and Headmaster Phineas Nigellus walked in with a scowl._

_"Good evening, Professor," said Albus politely, knowing that getting what he wanted just got a little bit harder if the professor was in a bad mood._

_The man grumbled a barely intelligible answer before walking around him and sinking crossly into the chair behind his desk tiredly. He met Dumbledore's gaze briefly before grumbling, "As if I don't have enough to worry about, controlling these wretched, pathetic excuses for wizards that we call students… now I have to deal with former ones as well?" _

_Phineas scowled again as he glanced back at Albus and barked, "Well?"_

_Albus blinked in confusion, before saying in as respectful tone as he could, "Well what, sir?"_

_Phineas looked annoyed and asked slowly as if he was talking to someone dim, "Why are you back here bothering me, Albus? Don't you have better things to do with your free time now that you're free of this place? Go and win some prizes or to make some more magical discoveries? Or do you just like irritating me?"_

_A well-mannered smile spread across Albus's face, though inside his felt as though he was being torn apart. Yes, that was what he wanted more than anything else in this world. He wanted fame, to shine… to escape and be called great… but things have changed. Reality came in and gave him a hard slap in the face and woke him up from his fantasies. _

_"Actually, sir, as I said in my owl, I wanted to talk to you about something important," he said quietly._

_Phineas rolled his eyes before saying harshly, "I know that. But WHAT do you want to talk to me about? What is so important that you had to come here and bug me about it?"_

'_He goes nothing,' Albus thought before he took a deep breath and said a little quickly, "I wish to become a teacher here at Hogwarts." _

_Phineas looked disbelieving at him as if he just spoke in some foreign language, and cried out, "You want to be a what?"_

_Albus took other deep breath and explained as calmly as he could, hoping that his old Headmaster wouldn't push the matter to much. This wasn't something that he thought that he could ever talk about to just anyone. "I suddenly discovered a passion for teaching that I never knew I had. I've been told that the Transfiguration position is now open and I am curious as to whether or not I can come back and fill that place?"_

_Phineas snorted, "And why would you want to become a teacher, Albus? You have talent; why waste it slaving away, attempting to teach snot-nosed brats who can't tell the difference between a wand and a quill or stop them from blowing up their potions homework every other day?" _

_Albus only shrugged and said, "I just know that it's for the best. I want to teach, Professor. I am certain that this is what I want to do. So please, do you think that I just might be able to? I know that I'm still pretty young, but I just have to stay here at Hogwarts."_

_Phineas studied him for a moment before smacking his hand over his face. "I can't believe I'm doing this… but… you were a brilliant student," he conceded reluctantly. "Perhaps you can knock some sense into these hopeless cases."_

_A huge smile spread across Albus's young but drawn face. "Thank you very much, sir. You do not know how much this means to me. I promise that you won't regret it."_

_Phineas flapped his hand impatiently. Before he could say anything else however, the door opened and Professor Ravenwood, the Herbology teacher, had come running into the room. "I'm sorry to disturb you Headmaster," she said quickly. "But a couple 4__th__ years had set fire to the Great Hall and we need you down there."_

_Phineas swore as he rose from his seat."Stay here," he ordered Albus as he headed to the door. "As a teacher, that's the first part of the job! When I return, we shall discuss the terms of your employment."_

_Albus nodded obediently and watched the older man hustle angrily and Professor Ravenwood giving him an apologetic look before she shut the door behind them. Albus sighed in relief. Good, he was now a teacher… he was finally safe… safe from the world's temptations of power. Maybe now he can hope to find some sort of closure. _

_He then allowed his eyes to roam over the surrounding objects once more, taking more in than before. It was then he locked onto a battered item sitting on a shelf just behind the desk. To anyone seeing it for the first time, it looked like nothing more than a weathered wizard's hat drooping in a most dejected manner._

_However, Albus remembered when he had tried on the hat years ago on his first night here. He remembered sitting underneath it for a short time as the Hat as it committed on which House he belonged in before shouting out Gryffindor._

_Without knowing exactly why he did it, he strode across the room, pulled it down from the shelf and placed it upon his head, waiting…_

_After a few seconds, a sly voice said in his head, "Well, well. Bee in your bonnet… Albus Dumbledore? It seems like only yesterday I was last sitting atop your head, trying to decide what to do with you. But it has been several years since then hasn't it?"_

_"Yes," responded Albus, still uncertain as to why he was now wearing the school Sorting Hat like he did when he was still a child. "I'm sorry to bother you like this, but you see…" he didn't know what he was going to say, but the hat knew that already._

_It chuckled. "Oh yes, I remember well. I had quite the time trying to figure out where you would fit best. Hufflepuff was the first House that sprang to my mind. I could see loyalty… and you were hard-working, no doubt about that. And yet, at the same time, it somehow didn't suit you completely._

_I next thought of Ravenclaw. You were truly one of the brightest minds I had ever seen, still are in fact. You were witty and different—yes, you would've done well there. And yet, there was something in you that didn't seem to fit… and so my last option was Gryffindor. I could see a brave and reckless part of your heart. A longing to do the right thing. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw, I debated with myself. Equally incredible, though, was your bravery and kindness, you're willing to help others. And so you ended up in Gryffindor in the end."_

_Albus relaxed without realizing it, relief flooding through him. But when the Sorting Hat continued he felt his insides freeze, "Sometimes I think that we sort to soon. I mean, just because someone was one way when they were eleven doesn't mean that they will remain that way after a few years. I can only read what's going on inside people's minds at the time, not their futures. Take you, for example." _

_Albus was starting to shake, wanting to rip the hat off, but he couldn't seem to be able to move. "I had difficulty placing you, like I said. But never once did I consider Slytherin. Yes, I could see that you had a gift for lying… but it was the kind of lying used to protect others from what you thought would be too much for them to take. At the time, I never saw anything to ambitious or that indicated a thirst for power and a talent for manipulation. But now…" _

_The hat trailed off for a moment before going on, "I see a great deal of frustration and resentment towards others that you were supposed to protect. As well as seeing that you refuse to take responsibility for your actions and duties; preferring to place them onto others."_

_Albus remembered his younger brother and sister, looking to him to care for them now that their mother was dead. How Aberforth grew to hate him for his lack of commitment, and Ariana in one of her fits, causing all the windows to break and glass flying everywhere. _

_He wanted the Resurrection Stone to revive his parents and lift his responsibility of caring for Ariana off his shoulders before seeing that same sister lying dead before him. How he, his brother, and former best friend suddenly realized that she was there—no longer moving. Aberforth let out a cry of heart-broken grief before he threw his wand away and rushed to her side. He picked up her head, trying desperately to awaken her, holding her close with a gesture of pure love and protection. Gellert was stared at the scene before him before turning and running from the room._

_Albus just stood there, unable to move as Ariana's dead eyes stared up at him from her brother's embrace. A slight surprise look that, to him, looked almost accusing, as if she couldn't believe that he let this happen to her._

_That was what slapped him awake._

_The hat continued, suddenly pulling him from his terrible living nightmare, "__There is also a disturbing lust for power… the kind of power that seek to control and rule over those you consider inferior."_

_He suddenly saw the memories of him sitting beside a boy with golden curls as they went over dozens of maps, books, and diagrams as they made their plans. Words such as "natural superiority," and "the greater good," floated between them._

"_But most of all…" the hat sighed. "I see fear. That is why you have returned to school and why I am now sitting on your head isn't it?"_

_Aberforth screaming that it was his fault that Ariana was now gone before punching him in the nose and running off—screaming that he never wanted to see him again._

_Albus remained where he was on the ground. His heart broken into a thousand pieces… the fear that his younger brother was right and that he was the one who killed Ariana. Not just from his neglect, but that it was he who cast the spell that ended her life. That was why he came back to Hogwarts. This was where he would be safe—to ensure that he would never fall again to the promise of power._

_The hat made one more sad sigh before finally saying, "It looks like that I might've been wrong about you all along, Dumbledore. Perhaps Slytherin would've been a better place for you. But, then again, I'm just a hat."_

_Albus pulled the hat off his head, feeling sick. Why was he so surprised? The hat said exactly what had been haunting him all this time, hadn't it? What was he expecting it to say? He shoved it back onto it's shelf before collapsing back into the chair in front of the Headmaster's desk with his face in his hands. _

_He knew that the Sorting Hat was right. He had desired power and fame, despised the weak, felt proud of his abilities and accomplishments that made him feel superior, even fit to rule. He couldn't have been more wrong… and look at what it cost him. _

_His family._

_Albus vowed from that moment on, that he would never seek power again, never would he try to rule over anyone else—whether they were magical or not. Human or not… he would never be fit to rule. He locked away all thoughts and desires of unbeatable wands, death-defying stone, and magical cloaks… of world domination and selfish dreams of power._

_He would devote the rest of his life to protecting others in place of the sister that he should've protected and care for all along._

_And he wouldn't stop until he could look in the mirror again and not feel ashamed of the face he saw there._

_*End of Flashback*_

His memories continued to haunt Albus to this very day. He looked back into the scared green eyes of a boy who reminded him of himself in a small way. No… this boy reminded him more of Ariana than anyone else he ever met.

Ariana had suffered greatly in her young life. And yet despite all the neglect and pain that she went through, her true self had always been kind and gentle.

Harry was just like Ariana when she was calm and sweet. He suddenly saw so many similarities between them, that it almost frightened him. Harry was locked away—hiding from the world just like he did to Ariana. Both were young and innocent… both suffered great tragedy early on in their lives before spending most of their lives in the dark, both had loving mothers who did everything they could to protect their child, and both ended up losing that mother to death…

But most of all—they both had family members who wished that their responsibility caring for them would just go away. Wishing that they would simply disappear.

But just to give Harry even the slightest peace from the war for at least a little while, was something that he'd been striving to do since Voldemort's failed to kill him that Halloween night.

He continued to stare into those bright green eyes and wondered if this was how he looked that day he tried on the Sorting Hat again—desperate for proof of where he belonged. He smiled gently at Harry, wanting to give him the peace of mind that he, himself, wasn't able to have for so long. "If you want proof, Harry, that you belong in Gryffindor, I suggest you look more closely at _this._" He reached over to pick up the sword off Minerva's desk and held it out to Harry who began examining it, not understanding what he was supposed to be seeing.

When he turned it over, he saw the name of Godric Gryffindor engraved upon it. He looked back up at him with a look of stunned disbelief, completely at a loss for words. Albus, knowing what he was about to ask said simply, "Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled _that_ out of the hat, Harry."

And then the boy smiled at him. A look of relief and pure joy—one that filled Albus with the same hope that the effects of phoenix song did. For a few minutes, neither one spoke. Until at last, Albus got up and pulled out a quill and ink. "What you need, Harry, is some food and sleep. I suggest you go down to the feast, while I write to Azkaban — we need our gamekeeper back."

He had to fight the urge to send a Howler to Fudge, telling him to hurry up and get Hagrid out of that terrible place or the childish way he wanted to say,_ 'I told you so'_. But he was suddenly reminded of the now memory-less Lockhart and he added thoughtfully, "And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too. We'll be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher… Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?"

Harry looked ready to laugh as he got up and placed the sword back on the desk with reverence; before then crossed to the door, looking like he longed for some food. Albus watched him leaving, but just as Harry reached for the handle, the door burst open and Harry had to jump back to avoid being hit with it.

Albus looked at the newcomer, and to his slight surprise, he saw that it was Lucius Malfoy. The man was looking furious, and extremely disheveled as if he had come here in a hurry. But what caught his attention the most was the small House-elf cowering at Lucius's feet.

"Good evening, Lucius," said Dumbledore pleasantly, wondering what he wanted this time.

Lucius shoved Harry out of his way as he came marching in the room with anger practically radiating off him and the elf scurrying after him—looking scared and carrying a stained rag.

Lucius ignored the elf at his feet and fixed all of his attention on him. "So!" he said coldly, and once again, Albus had to fight the childish instinct to say _'So what?'_

"You've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."

Smiling, Albus just said, "Well, you see, Lucius, the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too… Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

Lucius had gone even paler and looked angrier. "So — have you stopped the attacks yet?" he sneered frostily, though Albus could detect the hint of fear in his voice. He raised his eyebrows at that, wondering why he seemed afraid. "Have you caught the culprit?"

"We have," he told him with another smile.

"_Well?_" said Lucius as if he thought that Albus was delaying telling him on purpose, "Who is it?"

"The same person as last time, Lucius," he answered truthfully. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary."

He reached over and picked up the book and held it in front of Lucius's face, looking straight into his eyes, and thus—into his mind to see what he was hiding. And to his horror, he saw that Lucius not only knew about the diary, but was also the one who had it in the first place. He saw the images of Tom—Voldemort then—handing the diary to Lucius and telling him to keep it hidden. He ordered him that the diary was the key to opening the Chamber of Secrets and that he was to pass it onto a student when he gave him the signal to do so. But he never had the chance to, because not long after that, he disappeared. He then saw the anger that Lucius had at Arthur Weasley's new bill and wanted to do something to get rid of it. And he came to the solution.

To plant it onto one of Arthur's children, and hope that they would be caught wiping out Muggle-borns, to try and discredit him.

"I see…" Lucius said slowly. Albus put the diary down, trying to see how on earth that Lucius could've slipped Ginny the diary as he said in as calm a voice as he could muster, trying to hide his anger. "A clever plan. Because if Harry here," Lucius turned to give Harry a glare before turning back to look at him, "And his friend Ron hadn't discovered this book, why — Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will…"

Lucius didn't say anything, and Albus saw that his mind suddenly closed to him. Feeling disappointed, he went on saying, "And imagine, what might have happened then… The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing Muggle-borns…" Which he knew was what Lucius was hoping for all along. "Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise…"

Lucius looked as if he was speaking against his own will when he choked out, "Very fortunate." Though he didn't need to use Legimency to see that he was close to losing it.

Suddenly, Albus heard Harry's voice speak up and he turned to look at him and was surprised to see his livid glare at Lucius. "Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?" he said in a cold voice.

Lucius rounded on him and snapped, "How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?"

'_Because you gave it to her,'_ Albus thought, his anger rising once again.

"Because you gave it to her," said Harry. Albus looked at him again, bewildered to how he suddenly knew this. "In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?"

Ah, so that's what happened. Of course, he remembered reading about the fight on the morning before the students arrived. So that's how he slipped the horrid thing into an innocent girl's belongings. He looked back and was angered again to see Lucius giving Harry an enraged look as his hands clench as though longing to reach for his wand.

"Prove it," he hissed at Harry.

Albus smiled at Harry in a silent thanks before saying, "Oh, no one will be able to do that. Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you…"

For a long moment, Lucius didn't move. Albus knew that he was very close to trying to curse them both, which Albus dared him to try. But reason must've taken over and he took his anger out on the elf that he now knew had to be Dobby.

"We're going, Dobby!"

He wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, and he kicked him right through it. Albus was quickly thinking of a way to try and help the brave little elf when Harry suddenly said, "Professor Dumbledore. Can I give that diary _back_ to Mr. Malfoy, please?"

"Certainly, Harry," he told him, wondering what the boy was up to. "But hurry. The feast, remember…"

Harry nodded once and grabbed the book before following Lucius out the door. Once they were gone, Albus looked to the painting to see that Armando was still there, staring at him in shock.

"Follow him for me, Armando," Albus smiled. "I want to know what he's planning to do."

Armando immediately snapped out of it and nodded as he turned and walked out of his portrait. Letting out a sigh of relief, Albus went back to his letter, letting Fudge know that the person responsible for all this was caught, and that he should release Hagrid as soon as he got this letter. Once he had finished and called Fawkes to him, Armando came back into the portrait.

"Well, Malfoy sure got his due!" he called out in a wheezy voice. "You should've seen it, Dumbledore. The look on his face was priceless!"

"What happened," he asked excitedly, feeling as if a great weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Armando laughed happily. "That boy thinks fast. He took off one of his socks and stuffed the diary into it before giving it back to Malfoy. That alone was worth it if you ask me. And as Malfoy ripped the sock off, the elf caught it!"

"And Lucius was tricked into freeing his own elf," Albus smiled before he burst out laughing. He felt happy for Dobby, now that he was freed from that terrible life of slavery. And equally pleased that Harry forgave the elf after all the trouble he put him through this year. But he then realized that there was no way that Lucius was going to let this go so he asked, "What did Lucius do?"

Armando looked grumpy for a brief second before smiling with a smug satisfaction and said, "He tried to curse Harry. He looked like he was off his rocker if you ask me." Noticing the anxious look on Albus's face he said quickly, "But you don't need to worry. That elf—Dobby—took care of everything." He laughed again. "Got blasted down a flight of stairs before leaving."

Albus felt his fondness for Dobby rise and also laughed again, glad to see that Lucius was paying for his selfish acts. "Where is Dobby now?"

Armando shrugged. "No idea. He thanked Harry several times before disapperating. And that's the end of it. Harry headed down to join the feast."

Albus nodded. "Good. You can take the rest of the night off, Armando. I don't think we need to watch Harry as closely for the rest of the year now that the danger has passed."

Armando saluted, looking glad and said, "Good. I think that we can use a break from all the spying and sneaking around." But the smile soon faded off as he asked quietly, "I noticed that you still didn't tell him about that prophecy? Not that I'm complaining, or anything," he added as Albus's smile also faded once again and he looked sorrowful.

"I think that it's too much to take in for a child myself," Armando stated, "But I was kinda expecting that you would tell him now that he knows about Tom Riddle and solved this whole Chamber of Secrets and Heir of Slytherin mystery. Tell me, do you regret not telling him yet?"

Albus frowned as he thought it over. "No, I don't believe so, Armando. I am sticking to my belief that Harry will be a better person if he is not burdened with his charge so early in his life. The longer he can believe himself to be, for the most part, a normal young wizard, the better for him."

He sealed the envelop with a sigh and finished by saying, "As soon as he hears the prophecy, he will never again know a moment's peace, and I don't want to take that away from him just yet."

Armando thought that over for a moment before nodding. "Understandable," he said. "But I seem to remember you saying something before about a potential _flaw_ in your plan? If you don't mind me asking, just what is this flaw that you were talking about?"

Albus just gave him a sad look. "You don't need to worry. I alone, can prevent this mistake from coming true. I know what I'm doing."

Armando just shrugged and left. Though Albus was willing to bet that he was going back to his own portrait to gossip about what he just heard to all the others. Chuckling at the thought of them all talking about this while he was gone and going to demand answers as soon as he got back, he stood up and Fawkes flew to his shoulder.

"I need you to take this to Fudge," he told the bird. "The quicker we can get this to him, the quicker that they can release Hagrid."

Fawkes trilled once in understanding as Albus held out the letter for him and in a flash of crimson fire, both Fawkes and the letter were gone. He left the room to enjoy some much needed food.

_*Early the next morning*_

Albus had finally returned to his office at around 7 in the morning, feeling tired but happier than he had been all year. The Chamber of Secrets had been closed for good, the monster slain, and all of his students were safe again.

Yes, he was overjoyed at this.

The feast had been one of the most memorable ones he ever had. Everyone, teachers included were in their pajamas for celebrating the end of a horrible nightmare and the start of a new day. He watched with happiness as all the students who were petrified came running into the hall about half an hour after the feast had started and to their friends. The Gryffindor table was especially loud when they found out that they were sure to win the House Cup for the second year in a row, while the Slytherins were, unsurprisingly, all looking sulky.

He beamed happily when Hagrid suddenly turned up at around three and thanking the trio so hard that Harry and Ron were knocked into their plates. Not that they minded, they just laughed as they wiped off the trifle from their faces.

Minerva looked over at him not long after that and he nodded in agreement as she stood up and announced that all the exams had been cancelled as a treat. Though he knew that it was for those students who were attacked for it wouldn't have been fair for them to take the exams while they had been in the hospital.

He then stood up himself after the cheers of the next exam-free few weeks had finally faded and announced that Lockhart would not be able to return the next year owing to the fact that he needed to leave and get his memory back.

He and the other teachers were unable to hide their enthusiasm for that announcement as well.

The feast lasted all night, and only ended once the sun had risen. Classes were all cancelled for the rest of the day and soon, everyone got up and went off to bed.

Albus took off his hat and sighed in reprieve, glad for some peace and quiet in his office. At least until his portraits all began asking for details of what happened as soon as he entered the room. Albus smiled at them all tiredly and promised them all that once he had gotten some sleep, he would fill them in on everything. Until then, he bid them all goodnight.

He walked passed them all, who were looking at him in disappointment and straight to Fawkes who was looking at him rather sleepily. Albus pulled the cuttlebone that he had been saving for him and gave it to the phoenix as he stroked his beautiful feathers.

"Thank you," he whispered to his old friend. "For keeping him safe."

**(Awwww. I hope you all thought that this chapter was worth the wait. Sorry for taking so long, but school has been rough. Now that the second year is over, we're moving onto third year next! The next chapter will be about the start of year three, and I hope that you are all looking forward to it. I promise that it will go up as soon as I finish it.)**


	25. Old FriendNew Teacher

**Chapter 25: Old Friend/New Teacher**

It was early August when Albus was leaning up against his office window and was looking over the letter he received from one of his former students.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_First of all, I wish to thank you very much for offering me the post as a teacher. You have no idea just how much your offer has meant to me.  
However, considering how problematic my condition is, I don't think that it would be wise to let me teach at Hogwarts surrounded by children. What will the parents say? There is no way that they'll allow it. And though I know that I never harmed anyone during my seven years here; I can't help but feel that as an adult, I am an even bigger threat to others than when, I myself, was still attending. Though I like to think that I've matured greatly since my own school days, I believe that it is still too much of a risk.  
Please don't think I do not want to come back. It's an honor that you considered me and I would've loved to come back and teach. But I fear I might accidentally hurt somebody, and so I cannot jeopardize anyone safety. So I ask that you please try to find another teacher. Believe me when I say that I wish I could, but I can't under the given circumstances._

_Remus J. Lupin_

Albus had re-read this letter many times and it never failed to bring a terrible sadness to him. Even after all this time, Remus still considered himself as a monster, and nothing that anyone says will be likely to change that. But Albus was determine to have Remus back here for this year… so after several more letters and pleads for him to take the job, he was able to convince Remus to come and see him and to at least hear him out. He hoped that when Remus walked through the old corridors and secret passageways, it would help convince him to return.

"Dumbledore?" Everard suddenly called in a bored tone, breaking Albus's train of thought. "Lupin's here. I just saw him arriving and McGonagall is showing him up here as we speak."

"Ah, good, good," Albus said as he went back to his desk and waited. It was about 10 minutes later he heard a knock on the door.

"Enter," he called cheerfully and Minerva had come in with a slight smile. "Headmaster? Remus Lupin's here to see you," Minerva told him just as Remus came in right behind her.

"Yes," Albus said happily, "I can see that." He nodded to her and she left with a slight bow of her head and a nod to Remus. Once the door shut behind her Albus looked up at his old pupil, his eyes studied him for a moment and he felt the smile fade from his face slightly. Remus looked so much older than he had ever seen him before; though the man was only 34, he looked as if he was at least 10 years older. He had several lines on his face, his brown hair was streaked with grey, and there were quite a few more scars—no doubt from his monthly transformations. Remus looked around the room for a brief second before saying, "I see your office hasn't changed much since the hundreds of times I've been in here," he said with a feeble attempt at humor.

Fawkes looked up from his perch and gave him a small trill as he passed by. Remus walked up to stroke the bird's soft red wing as he blinked peacefully up at him.

"Yes, it's good to see you again too, Fawkes," he informed him as he finally turned to his old Headmaster and said rather stiffly, "Professor Dumbledore?"

"Good afternoon Remus," Albus said graciously. "It is wonderful to see you again. Though, judging from your tone, you don't seem to be pleased to see me."

"I… it's not that it's just…" he looked around desperately for something to say. "Professor…"

"I am delighted that you took the time to come and see me today," Albus answered. "But please, Remus. You are no longer a student, just call me Albus."

"Okay, Albus," said Remus though he sounded very uncomfortable. Then, he took a seat at Dumbledore's desk.

"Lemon Drop?" Dumbledore offered him from a bowl sitting on his desk, like he used to do whenever he and the rest of his little gang were sent up here to receive their punishments from one of the countless stunts that they pulled off.

Remus shook his head, "Ah, no. I'm fine, thank you."

They sat in silence for several moments, as Albus continued to gaze at Remus intently. Remus just looked back uncertainly, as if unsure if he should begin the conversation. He just continued to stay quiet, since Albus was the one who asked him here in the first place.

"How are you doing these days, Remus?" Albus finally asked softly.

"I am…" Remus said slowly, as if wondering if he should tell the truth or not. "Doing as well as can be expected. I have a small flat just on the outskirts of London… it's no palace but it is comfortable."

"And are you working?" Albus asked him, trying to hide the sorrow in his voice.

"I…" Remus began before he trailed off again and grimaced. "To be honest, no. Most of my jobs only last three or four months if I'm lucky before my employers start to wonder why I'm always taking sick leave around full moons. Lately I've been finding temporary jobs in the Muggle world which have been helping a lot." He attempted to laugh at the end, but it sounded more like forced chuckle.

Albus nodded knowingly as he raised his wand and conjured up a tray of steaming hot tea and a few biscuits. "Help yourself," he informed him.

"T-thank you," Remus said as he reached over and took several biscuits. It was then that Albus noticed just how thin his arm was as he took the tea and he couldn't help but wonder when the last time Remus had a decent meal. After pouring tea for both of them, Remus asked, "Now, Albus, why did you call me here?"

"Well," said Albus slowly, his mood turning somber as he reached from inside his desk and pulled out today's paper. "I'm not sure if you received the paper for the last couple days?"

Remus shook his head. "Not really. It's getting too expensive to be paying for the paper every day. I normally read the old ones whenever I get a chance."

Albus had been afraid of that. He sighed, hating to be the one to tell him but knowing it had to be done. "There is something you need to know, Remus, and I think it would be better if you heard it here than from someone else." Smoothing out the newspaper, he held it out for Remus to read the front-page headlines.

Remus leaned forward to read it curiously and Albus saw all the blood draining from his face as he began to shake—whether it was from fear or rage—Albus didn't know. On the front page, there was the picture a man that they both thought they knew very well. But he looked so different from the young and handsome trouble-maker that they used to know, that if his name hadn't been written there underneath, they never would've recognize him. The picture showed a skeleton-thin man with long, matted hair, a possessed grin on his face, and mad laughter that seem to come from the deepest levels of insanity.

AZKABAN'S FIRST ESCAPEE: SIRIUS BLACK!

For a few seconds, Remus seemed too stunned to speak. "B-but that's impossible," Remus finally croaked out gazing at the headline and not being able to tear his eyes away from it. "There must be some kind of mistake. No one has ever been able to escape Azkaban, no one!"

"I'm afraid that this is no mistake, Remus," Albus said gravely as he lay the newspaper down next to the tea tray. "Sirius Black has indeed escaped. It happened night before last in fact."

"Wh-what will happen to him if he's caught?" asked Remus shakily. Albus gave him a sympathetic look and answered as gently as he could, "He will return to Azkaban of course… though I've recently heard that the Ministry may sentence him to the Dementor's Kiss instead."

"Oh, God," Remus put his head in his hands and moaned miserably. Albus reached over and placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"I know that this must be hard for you to hear, Remus," Albus said in a sad tone. "It grieves me to know this as well. But I felt that you of all people deserve to know."

"How did he do it?" Remus choked out, still not looking up at him.

"I'm afraid that we don't know that just yet," Albus admitted. "I was informed that when they checked Sirius's cell, he was gone. They searched the whole island, but they couldn't find any trace of him."

Remus finally looked up at him with very red eyes. "That doesn't surprise me. Sirius he…" Sirius's name seemed to be caught up in his throat for a second before he continued, "He always had a gift for escaping."

Albus felt so terrible for the man sitting across from him. He knew just how much Remus cared for his friends and how much he grieved for them… and he also knew that even after all this time, it pained Remus to just hear about his past friends. These twelve years must've been very difficult for him.

"Is that all, sir?" Remus asked, voice still shaking a little as he twisted a corner of his robes into knots. "I mean, is there something else you want to tell me?"

"Ah, you are a very perceptive young man, Remus," Albus said quietly. "First, I must express to you how sorry I am that I had to be the one to tell this to you. But I must also inform you that now that you know, it will be a great aid to me if you could do me a favor?"

"A favor?" asked Remus, timidly, as if afraid of what he was about to ask.

Albus nodded once as he surveyed him over the top of his glasses. "As you know, I am still Headmaster of this school. And as I'm sure that you also know, Harry Potter is a student here now. He is beginning his third year this September in fact."

He saw Remus flinch slightly as if hearing Harry's name was a painful subject for him.

"Yes, sir, I know that," he whispered. "But just what is it that you want me to do?"

"There is an open position at Hogwarts," Albus informed him. "As there is every year… for Defense Against the Dark Arts of course. Now, I'm sure that I don't need say it for you see where I am going with this, Remus?"

Shock was over Remus Lupin's face as he croaked out hoarsely, "You can't be serious. I know that you've been writing to me about the post, but you can't honestly suggest…"

"And why not?" Albus asked him lightly.

"Because of…" Remus gasped as if he thought that Albus was mad. (Which he was of course—just a little bit.) "You know of my…_ 'condition'_, sir! I could be a danger to all the students and staff!"

"Remus, surely you have heard of the Wolfsbane Potion that was so recently invented?" asked Albus, hoping that this would tempt him. "As I am sure you already know, while the potion does not cure lycanthropy but it does ease the symptoms, allowing the werewolf who takes it to hold on to their mental faculties after the transformation. Which under normal circumstances not be possible."

"Yes, but… but…" Remus spluttered, like he could've believe what he was hearing.

"If you don't want to take the job, that is alright," Albus said carefully. "I just thought that you…"

"No! No," Remus interrupted, "Of course, I would WANT to take the job, but wouldn't people object to… well, me?"

"Very few people would need to know about your condition," Albus informed him. "And I have already made plans for Professor Snape to make you the Wolfsbane potion…"

"Severus Snape?" Remus repeated, his face falling back into depression. "He hates me! He hated me ever since we were children, and I highly doubt that he has forgiven me for what happened back then! I don't think he would make the potion for me."

"He will," Albus assured him with certainty, "And he will take over the class on days you need to recover from your transformation, which I know that he will like. Your lycanthropy will not be a problem as long as you continue to take the potion."

"But…" Remus muttered.

Albus watched the range of emotions play across Remus's face and said, "I assure you, it is not impossible for you to come back and teach. Please consider my offer, Remus, Hogwarts will need your protection this year. With Sirius Black on the loose, we could all be in terrible, terrible danger."

Remus looked like he didn't know what to say to that so he asked, "I… I don't understand why you want me to teach here so badly."

Albus's eyes became very somber and he frowned, "Several reasons. First of all, I do not believe in keeping a capable man from a job where he would do well because he suffers from a hardship he has no control over."

Albus saw the tears beginning to form in Remus's eyes and took a long pause before saying, "Second reason is that now that Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban, I am dreading that Harry will learn things about his past that I know will trouble him greatly. As of right now, he doesn't know who Sirius Black is… or just what his relationship is to him. But I do believe that this year, I think Harry will need someone like you now more than ever."

"I think I am the last person Harry needs," Remus told him bitterly.

"Oh, quite the contrary," Albus told him gently. "You were one of his father's closest friends, and the only one left who has remained true to that friendship."

"But, sir…"

Albus spoke slowly and carefully. "Remus, you were always the most responsible of your friends. Perhaps Sirius will be caught long before he comes anywhere near us, and we won't have to worry this year, and we won't have to worry about protection anyone. But, just in case, I think it would be beneficial to have you at Hogwarts; even if it is just for this one year. Regardless of what you say, I do believe that you can teach the class and teach it well, something all the students here desperately need."

Remus didn't say anything, but Albus could see that he was sorely tempted by all everything he had to offer. Albus bit back a smile and said, "You will be perfectly safe, Remus. You and everyone else so long as we take all the necessary precautions. Do you truly think I would even offer you the position if I thought that that it was impossible? Do you think I would put my pupils at such a risk?"

Remus twitched horribly as if ashamed of his thoughts and Albus asked, gently. "The Wolfsbane Potion has been proven to be successful. I have the assurances of Severus Snape that he will make it for you each and every month, and you can lock yourself up comfortably in your office and wait until the full moon passes. Just think of it as a little extra time off each month for you to work out your problems."

"But when Severus agreed to make it, did he know who would be given the potion?" Remus asked, mildly.

Dumbledore nodded and pressed the tips of his long fingers together, "Severus Snape is more than willing and able to make the potion for you." He then noticed the unconvinced face that Remus was making because he added, "Remus, he's kept your secret for all these years. I can promise you that he won't poison you under my watch."

"I don't know, sir…"

"Remus, you would make a marvelous teacher. Did you forget Peter Pettigrew and all those other students that you helped to get through their exams? You are patient and kind, Remus. And you enjoy teaching—exactly what every good teacher has. Are you really going to let your… condition deprive my students of their chance to learn?" Albus paused, allowing these words to sink in.

Remus started into the depths of his tea. "But what about the parents? There is no way that they will allow a werewolf teaching their children…"

"I generally do not keep things from the parents, but on this rare occasion…" Albus trailed off. "The governors will have to be informed of you, of course. But I know that I can convince them that you are more than capable of teaching here. Luckily for us, our biggest challenger to your appointment has just been forced down from his position so I do not think that it will be too difficult for me to convince the governors to allow you to come."

"Lucius Malfoy's been sacked?" Remus said startled.

"Oh, yes," Albus said cheerfully. "Do to certain… ah, conditions last year, he was recently forced to leave the Board of Governors. What he did is no longer of any importance and I don't feel the need to bring it up again," he said, answering Remus's unasked question.

"As for the staff, most have remained since your own time here as a pupil, and they all remember you with great fondness." After a moment, Albus added nonchalantly, "And of course, I'm sure that Harry and the rest of the students will enjoy having you here."

"Professor… Dumbledore," corrected Remus in a tone that was torn between fear and apprehension. "While we are on the subject… Harry… I've got to know…"

Albus smiled. "Remus, my dear boy, I was beginning to think that you would never ask about him."

Remus returned the smile, though it was rather watery. "So, how is he? I haven't seen him since he was just a baby. What's he like? Is he happy? What's his personality like? Does he get good grades? And who does he look like_?_" He hesitated for a second and then finally asked, "Does he know anything about me?"

Albus's eyes twinkled at him. "To start off with. He looks just like his father. He looks exactly like James did when he was his age… but he has Lily's eyes, as I'm sure you recall. He is happy enough when he is here at school and his grades are fairly decent. At least he does his homework unless James who spent half his time here making up excuses to why he didn't turn in his work." Remus smirked at that as Albus went on, "He may look like his father, but his nature is much more like his mother's. He inherited Lily's temper, her kindness, and definitely her bravery. And to top it all off, he hasn't let his fame go to his head as you know that James would've."

Remus laughed slightly. "Yes, James did have a big head when we were kids."

"Harry on the other hand is very polite and modest," Albus said comfortably. "Sometimes, a little too modest."

"What House…?" Remus began uncertainly.

"Gryffindor, like his parents," Albus confirmed and a big smile broke out on Remus' face. "As for him knowing about you, Remus…" Remus tensed up, "He doesn't know about you, not yet anyway. I will leave that up to you to decide whether or not you want him to know."

Remus nodded gratefully, and Albus could see the mixed feelings on his former student's face.

"Is he on the Quidditch team yet?" Remus couldn't help but ask. "I remember James always going on and on about how he was sure to be an amazing player when he got older."

"Yes," Albus said with a nod. "In fact, he's been on the Gryffindor team since his first year. He plays Seeker."

"Since first…?" Remus stuttered in amazement. "But first-years never… he must be the youngest player in about…"

"A century," Albus said beaming. "Indeed he is very talented on a broom. But even with all his fame, he still doesn't let it all go to his head which I find to be simply remarkable. I personally find him a very delightful and honest child."

"Good, I'm proud of him. I… It's good to hear after all these years," Remus finished lamely.

"It's good to hear you say that," Albus said as his tone suddenly turned grave again. "As a matter of fact, I have just come from a meeting with the Minister about Harry."

"Oh?" Remus said, his smile also fading.

"Yes. And it's about what Black might be after," Albus informed him rather stiffly.

"So he's after Harry?" Remus said quietly in a empty voice

Albus sighed as he stood up and paced the office. "Yes. I'm afraid we have reason to believe he is."

"It's just…" Remus stated, unable to form a complete sentence. "His own godson… what on earth could've happened to him? When did it go so wrong?"

"We all wonder that," Albus said sadly. "But I also wonder why he waited this long to break out. Was it because he wasn't able to before or…?"

"A display of power! He's doing this so he can prove that no one can stop him, sir," Remus blurted out furiously. "Sirius always did love a challenge! He broke out now so he can try and go after Harry when he's safely inside Hogwarts where you are! It's the way Sirius… just the way that his mind works. It's the attention he wants!"

"You sound like you miss him," Albus said in an understanding tone. He understood this all too well. Even if your best friend had gone over to the wrong side, you cannot forget the friend that you once knew, and hope that he could still be in there somewhere. He thought back briefly to Grindleward… before he shook his head hard with his eyes tightly shut—trying to bring himself back to the present.

Apparently Remus didn't notice, which he was glad for. "I can't deny that I do miss him," Remus admitted. "I mean, I miss the Sirius Black that I used to know. I still hate him and think he deserves to spend the rest of his life rotting in a dark cell in Azkaban after everything he did… but I still miss him just as much as I miss James and Peter. Lily and Harry…" He ran a hand through his graying hair. "I just don't know anymore."

"That's proves you are still human," Albus said, kindly. "You believed him to be your friend. You trusted him. We all did. And even after everything that has happened, those feelings are still there. Trust may be an easy thing to ignore, but not to forget. Believe me; I know that there are some things that are impossible to move on."

Remus closed his eyes and sighed unhappily.

"I'm sorry," Albus added.

Remus shook his head. "It's not your fault. It's ours, for thinking that he was on our side."

"Even the best of us have been disappointed by those we love," Albus said to himself sadly as the image of Ariana's and Aberforth's faces of when they were still children, swam into his mind. How they had trusted him to take care of everything… and how he disappointed them both completely. "And betrayal is the worst kind of disappointment. You miss the man you once knew. Who, despite everything, was still once your friend—that is understandable."

Remus drained what was left of his tea and turned his head away from him. "He was traitor," he said at last not even bothering to hide the hurt in his tone.

"Do not let the betrayer he became destroy the memories of the friend you knew," Albus said gently. "The man who was once the same boy who loved nothing else than pulling pranks with his best friend by his side and making others laugh."

"But how can he be the same person?" Remus cried in confusion. "I wish that I could look back and remember how it happened! When it all went wrong! To the moment he changed. But I can't! I just don't see how it's possible! One minute, he was the loyal, good man who would rather die than give up his friends, and then the next he was the one responsible for ending his best friends lives—laughing as he did it. I just don't know what to think!"

Remus shook his head as he turned to look out the window.

Albus let him sit there for a few minutes, let him absorb everything he had just learned. But when he showed no signs of moving or speaking, Albus asked him once again. "This is your decision, Remus. If you want the position, it's yours. And truthfully, I can't think of anyone better suited for this job right now than you."

There was another pause. Remus continued to stare out the window.

"I…" Remus wiped the tears from his eyes, "Alright," he said at last. He took a deep breath, and said in a slightly shaky voice, "I'll take the job."

Albus sighed with relief. "Thank you, Remus. I greatly appreciate this of you." Albus paused for a moment. "And now I must ask yet another favor of you. The Minister has demanded that extra protection be placed around the school. I am not happy about what he had in mind, but would you object terribly to being on the Hogwarts Express with the students? Who knows? You may also run into Harry, then."

"Not at all," Remus told him, "But why do you want me to? And doesn't Harry know that Sirius is after him?"

"No," Albus said firmly. "I am certain he will find out soon enough once he arrives at school. But I would hate to burden him needlessly with this when there is still time. He doesn't need any more responsibilities placed on his young shoulders yet."

"If you're sure…"

Albus nodded before he paused for a second. "It was his birthday just a couple days ago."

"Yes, he's thirteen now I know," Remus said sadly as Albus gave him another sympathetic look. "Even though I haven't seen him after all this time, I could never forget his birthday."

Albus gave him another long look and said, "You truly are one of the most kindest people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, Remus."

Remus blushed as Albus put the newspaper away and Remus gathered up his coat.

"I will look forward to hearing more from you and to hear about your lessons during the year," Albus informed him.

"I'll do my best," Remus said, though he sounded unsure of himself.

"I know that you will, Remus. But, also," Albus stopped with his expression darkly. "I want you to know that it isn't just Black that I wish to protect Harry, and the rest of my students from. Fudge has ordered the Dementors of Azkaban to guard the school and I have a strong suspicion they will prove to be much more of a threat than help."

Remus had gone even paler than before. "Dementors? What on earth was he thinking? I think I rather take my chances without those accused things around! To actually let them near a school with children…"

"I know," Albus said bitterly. "I have told Cornelius that I will not allow a Dementor anywhere near the school. But he has ordered it. He may trust them, but I do not. But to know that there are teachers here who know how to fight them will help put mine and everyone else's minds at ease.

"I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors," Remus told him quickly.

"But you can hold your own against them," Albus told him firmly. "Do I have your word that you will do everything in your power to protect the students?"

"Of course. But…can't you just forbid the Dementors coming anywhere near the castle?" Remus asked him.

"Yes, I have made my thoughts quite clear. Unfortunately, that does not guarantee that the Dementors will follow through with them. But it will give me some comfort to know you are aboard the train with the students until they all safely reach the castle. And now," Albus walked passed him and over to the door. "I am afraid that I must take my leave. But I do look forward to welcoming you onto my staff in September."

He held the open for him with a smile, "And I'm not worry. I have absolute faith in you."

"Thank you," Remus said, flushing at the praise again. "I'll do my best not to disappoint you."

"Of all the people I have ever known, Remus, you are one of the few who has never given me cause to be disappointed. I know that you will do brilliantly," Albus smiled a little wider. "Now, good day to you."

As Remus walked passed him he suddenly added, "Oh, and Remus?"

Remus turned to him. "Yes?"

"Please keep a close eye on Harry for me," he told him forlornly. "I fear with Sirius Black on the loose again… he's going to learn who is responsible for Voldemort going after his parents sooner or later. Which will make protecting him even harder. Please make sure that he stays safe."

"You don't even have to ask for that," Remus assured him as he shook his hand and left rather quickly, as if he was afraid that he would change his mind if he stayed any longer. Once Remus had left, Albus gathered up his cloak and got ready to leave for what was sure to be another boring meeting with the Wizengamot when he heard Phineas ask him, "A werewolf? Honestly, Dumbledore…"

"I can assure you, Phineas that Remus is more than up to the task," Albus told him sternly. "I wish to hear no more about it. Nothing you say will change my mind."

"When has it ever?" he asked snidely. "If you knew what was good for you, you'd listen to me once in awhile! But noooo… you insist on doing things your own way don't you? And though you might be able to fool all the other thick-headed paintings in here, don't think you've got me hoodwinked for a second." As all the other portraits let out cries of outrage and started yelling out threats he shouted above the noise, "You only want wolf-boy here so that he can babysit Potter for you don't you?"

"Trust me, that is not my intention, Phineas," Albus told him confidently, swinging the cloak over his shoulders. "But after everything that has happened during the last two years, I don't wish to take chances of risking any of my students safety."

"Yeah sure," Phineas yawned as Albus left the room—leaving the portraits all screaming so loudly at Phineas he didn't hear the Slytherin Headmaster say, "You keep telling yourself that, Dumbledore. Everyone _knows_ that Golden Boy Potter's your favorite."

**(Yeah! I'm done with this chapter! And we are all finally on year three! Sorry for taking so long, but I've been very busy with school. Next chapter Dumbledore hears about the Dementor attack on the train and we move onto the welcoming feast. Hope you all enjoy it as well as this one.)**


	26. Another Year Begins

**(First off, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Thefanfictiongirl, Nightwitch87, shannyauburn, xpig-in-the-skyx, Starr123, Pance, softasthunder, harrietmartha, Cassandra30, Lizzosaur, and Kriish. Hope you all enjoy this next chapter.)**

**Chapter 26: Another Year Begins**

Albus was getting ready to head down to the Great Hall to greet the rest of the students when he, once again, heard someone knocking at his office door.

"Enter," he called civilly as he took the Sorting Hat from its shelf and carefully brushed it off. It only felt like yesterday when the last batch of students sat underneath it and waited, terrified of where the hat was going to place them. Albus could only hope that this year would be better than that last—he shuddered at the thought of having those Dementors guard the school.

Was it really worth having those things around? He shook his head, not sure what to do anymore. He knew that Sirius Black was most likely coming here to get Harry, he felt cold at the thought, but the thought of having those horrific creatures anywhere near his students kept him up at night.

If he had it his way, he would've found much better ways to protect the castle… unfortunately, he couldn't change Fudge's mind. How on earth that man could ever trust such vile monsters as the Dementors he'll never know. But he had no choice but to agree… all he could do now was hope that he won't regret it later.

He came back to the present and turned in time to see Severus had entered, in his usual black and looking even more irritable than usual.

"Headmaster," he said in a would-be-calm voice as he came slouching into the room.

"Ah, Severus," he called cheerfully. "If you are coming to get me for the Welcoming Feast, then you need not worry. I was just on my way down."

"It's not that, Dumbledore," Severus told him. "I just wanted to talk to you… alone. Before the rest of the school returns."

"Oh?" Albus asked him politely as he turned to face him. "About what? If it's about Sirius Black again, I have already told you that I'll inform the rest of the students right before the feast…"

"Not exactly," Severus said coldly. "Though that could very well lead to him."

Albus raised his eyebrows and looked at him. Dimly aware of where this was going.

"It is the position of our newest staff member," Severus stated with ice in his voice.

"You mean, Remus?" Albus asked courteously though he said with a firm note. "Severus, we've been over this many times already, and I can assure you that Remus is more than able to teach the students this year. All I ask is if you make the Wolfsbane potion for him every full moon. I know that the ingredients are difficult for you to gain, but I am more than able get them for you."

"It's not that," Severus hissed. "I told you before that he will surely be helping Black! You remember how close that little gang of misfits were in school! The werewolf will be the first one there to help that murderer! How else could he have escaped Azkaban?"

"And you are suggesting that Remus helped Sirius Black escaped?" Albus asked him as if making sure he heard right. "Severus, you know as well as I do that it was a full moon that night, Remus couldn't have helped him. Besides, how on earth could Remus _have_ helped him? If you recall correctly, out of those four boys, he was the one who at least tried to follow the rules. No, Severus. You are once again letting your old grudges cloud your judgment."

"Do you not remember that Lupin once tried to kill me?" Severus said loudly, almost shouting as his fast twisted in anger.

Albus sighed as he thought back to that day. Severus sounded almost exactly as he did back when he was still no more than a child himself, trying to blame Remus for what happened.

_*Flashback*_

_"Severus," Albus said to the fifteen year old boy very seriously. As soon as he heard that Severus Snape followed Remus Lupin into the Whomping Willow, he feared the worst… that is until he had been told that James Potter had gone after him and pulled him away from the Shrieking Shack. _

_So here he was now, in the Hospital Wing, telling the boy what needed to be said._

"_I can't tell you how relieved I am to see that you are safe, Severus," Albus went on. "But now that you are, I want you to swear to me that you will not tell anyone—and I mean anyone—about what you have seen and learned this evening."_

_"But, Professor! Remus Lupin's a werewolf! He's a monster!" Severus Snape cried as he sat up in bed and stared at him as if he was mad. "He's a danger to everyone in the castle! How could you not see what he is before he got here? I thought that you did a background check on everyone…"_

_"I am well aware that he is a werewolf," Albus interrupted calmly. "I knew it long before he ever even entered Hogwarts. Do you really believe I am so ignorant of what goes on in my own school, Severus?"_

"_I didn't mean it like that!" Severus called out slightly abashed as he tried to get out of bed, but Albus pushed his hand on his shoulder to prevent him from going anywhere._

"_Now, I want you to swear me that you will never tell anyone else about this, Severus," he told the boy sternly. _

_"But people have a right to know!" Severus argued, sounding angry that his teacher wouldn't listen to him. "It isn't fair to everyone here to put them in that kind of danger without them knowing…"_

"_And it isn't fair for you to ruin, young Remus's life, Severus," he countered._

"_He, Potter, and Black do that on a daily basis!"_

_"Severus," said Albus, in such a tone that Snape momentarily fell silent, chastened._

_"Do not make the mistake of thinking that I would put the safety of you or any student here at risk," he told him in a calm, yet stern voice. "Remus is only a danger once a month—for the rest of the time, he's harmless. Remus is taken to that shack, through the passage Sirius told you about, well before the moon rises each month. The building is warded so that he can't escape and nobody can come across him by accident while he is dangerous. The villagers are convinced that the house is haunted and they don't dare come near it, especially at night. Had you not insisted on wandering the grounds after dark and prying into other people's matters, you would have been perfectly safe and wouldn't be here right now."_

_Severus looked outraged and opened his mouth to argue. But Albus held up a hand, he pierced Snape's black eyes with his bright blue gaze._

_"Listen to me, Severus. Remus has found joy here at Hogwarts, just as you have. The only reason he is allowed to be here is because no one else knows his secret. As I'm sure you can agree that there haven't been anyone attacked in these last five years he's been here. By giving away Remus's secret, you would be ruining his life forever at the same time. You are blaming him for something that he, himself, has no control over."_

_Albus sighed unhappily as Severus continued to look unconvinced. "Do you think he chose to be cursed like this? The transformations are very painful for him, and he suffers with it every single day, not just once a month. And there is a good chance that he will most likely for the rest of his life. If others were to find out about his condition then he would be forced to leave this school. And so would you, if you harm him like that."_

_Severus looked horrified and gasped, "You wouldn't!" _

_"I most certainly would," Albus said firmly. "You must understand something right now, if everybody knew Remus Lupin was a werewolf, his life would be made miserable and he will be forced to leave us because you had to go and poke around in matters that don't matter to you. It is his affliction for him to tell and his choice if he ever does. While I agree that Sirius should not have said anything to you about how to get into the house, I cannot blame Remus for what happened. As for Sirius, I have had a word with him already about this and he will be punished."_

_"What about Potter?" demanded Severus furiously pointing to the black haired boy that was asleep at the other end of the Hospital Wing. "He was involved too!"_

_"From Sirius's accounts of what happened tonight, it sounds to me as though James saved your life," Albus told the frowning, bitter little boy. _

_"He heard what Sirius had done and went after you; if you had gone all the way to the Shrieking Shack then you would've met a full-fledged werewolf. James knew this. That's why he risked himself to go after you and…"_

"_He only did it to save his own neck and his little friends!" Severus said, but Albus heard enough._

"_You will both stay in the Hospital Wing overnight," Albus informed him as he stood up, "And you will go to class tomorrow morning as usual. I assure you that Sirius will be punished for this, though his friends have also had a word with him about this. There is no harm done and you should learn to let that go. But, Severus, I meant what I said. You are not going to tell anybody about what you saw tonight. Because if you do, I will have no choice but to expel you from Hogwarts."_

_"No," whispered Snape, looking sour. "I won't tell anyone."_

_*End of Flashback*_

"Severus, you know that Remus had no control over what he was doing that night. And if you weren't following him…"

"I knew that they were hiding something!" Severus yelled. "If you just let me tell the rest of the castle…"

"We've been over this a million times, Severus," Albus said with finality in his tone. "You are not to tell anyone else about this. I can promise you that Remus hasn't seen or heard from Sirius Black since before he was taken to Azkaban. He didn't help him out of prison, and he's here to help protect Harry and everyone else. As Sirius's only remaining former friend, he knows Sirius and what he's capable of better than anyone."

"And what do you think would happen if it was just an act?" he asked. "What if he helps his old _'friend'_," he spat out that last word as if it was venom. "Into the castle?"

"Enough," Albus said sternly as he walked passed him. "I don't wish to hear this again, Severus. Please put it out of your mind and come with me to the Welcoming feast."

_*Later*_

As he headed down into the Hall, he noticed Poppy Pomfrey just a little bit ways ahead of them, and judging by her annoyed/concerned expression. "Poppy?" he called and she turned to him.

"Ah, Headmaster," she said calmly. "I'm sorry, but I can't stay. How you could ever allow those… _things_ to be around the school I don't…"

"I assume that you're talking about the Dementors?" he asked her tiredly as Severus yawned, as if bored.

"What else?" she asked bitterly. "Minerva called me down. Several of the students had taken ill on the train. Those Dementors boarded the Hogwarts Express and many of the students are quite shaken up. Lupin was sent a message to the school on what happened. No one was harmed, but they all had bad reactions… one of them even fainted…"

Albus's eyes narrowed. He should've seen this coming. He should've been able to foreseen that they would've tried something like this. Cornelius had suggested it… but he had objected to it right away. It was bad enough having those creatures at the entrance, but to actually be allowed on a train full of children?

He knew that the Dementors didn't search the train because they thought that Sirius Black was on board, they did it to get to the students. He would have to be sure to say something to Fudge about this. He highly doubted that the man would agree to get rid of them, but if Albus could find a way, he most certainly will.

Just thinking about them draining the hope and happiness from his students made him both cold with fear, and hot in anger. "I never ordered them to search the train," he said as though he had a bad taste in his mouth. "But I'll look into it. I hope that you'll be ready for anything this year?"

She still looked cross, but said evenly, "I suppose so. Now, if you excuse me, Minerva has rounded up a couple students and I need to go and check on them."

She swept away as Severus finally spoke up, "Dementors on the train? Do they honestly think that Black would be dumb enough to travel on that? Not even Black is that stupid."

"Severus," Albus said wearily. "You know as well as I do what they were doing. They were trying to get their fair share of happiness from as many people as they could." He sighed, "I swear, if any of my students get hurt from one of them, I will personally see to Fudge."

Severus looked at him startled as Albus walked right passed him and headed straight for the Great Hall.

He immediately felt calmer when he got to the Hall and the tables were filling themselves and he couldn't help smiling at the sight of them gathering together with their friends. He looked around for Minerva, and to his surprise, he saw Flitwick coming forward.

"Minerva said that she had something else to do," he said. "I'll be calling out the names this year."

Albus nodded graciously and handed over the hat while he made his way to his seat. When he sat down, he looked round at everyone… and he couldn't help but glance at the Gryffindor table—expecting to see the trio sitting together…

But no. He raised his eyebrows in surprise to see that Ronald Weasley was indeed sitting there—but Harry and Hermione Granger where nowhere to be seen. Something told him not to worry… but seeing those two empty seats… he couldn't help but fell concern flooding through him.

He shook his head, as he looked at Minerva's empty seat and it clicked into place. The two of them must've been with her. He knew that his Transfiguration teacher was going to be giving Miss Granger a Time Turner this year… so he could see why she would be missing here… but why was Harry…?

Poppy's words came back to him and he closed his eyes in understanding. Harry must've been the one who fainted on the train. Oh, he should've known… after everything that boy has been forced to go through, of course he would have a bad reaction to the Dementors.

And of course that Minerva would've been worried. She was as protective of her Gryffindor cubs as he was. He relaxed, knowing that things would be fine and instead, listened Flitwick calling out the names.

One by one, the nervous first-years came forward, sat on the stool and waited until the hat yelled out either Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. And one by one, they headed off to their tables. In no time at all, the sorting was done and Filius took the stool and the Sorting Hat before he left the Hall.

Almost as soon as he left the room, Minerva came in with the two missing students. Albus watched them; he knew that they were safe along, but he couldn't help but let a small sigh of relief. They left Minerva and quickly went over to the Gryffindor table to sit with Ron.

Smiling, he stood up and held his arms wide open, as if hoping to embrace them all.

"Welcome!" he cried out happily at all the excited looks on their faces as they all fell silent. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious. I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"

He had a feeling that they would be less willing to listen after stuffing themselves with delicious food that the House-elves worked so hard to make.

"As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express," his eye twitched at the reminder that the Dementors went against his wishes and got on the train.

'_Unfortunately,'_ he thought to himself. He still personally wished that the Ministry didn't insist on it, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He cleared his throat and called out as seriously as he could, "Our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

He paused for a second before glancing at the Gryffindor table and felt the need to elaborate, "They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added as he looked at the trio who were looking at each other in worry.

Hoping that they understood how foolish it would be to try and fool a Dementor, he went on, "It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses." He paused again for a second, silently pleading himself that they would not be irrational enough to stray from the grounds this year. "I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors."

He glanced at his newest Head Boy and Girl, and saw that Percy Weasley was looking usually smug and important. He puffed out his chest, showing off his badge and looking around at everyone, as if he thought that they would be jealous, Albus went on—speaking to the now stunned silent hall.

"On a happier note," he said, trying to brighten the mood after that depressing speech. "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause at Remus's name. Only a handful of Gryffindors clapped loudly, and Albus had to smile a tiny bit wider at seeing that Harry was one of them. It was too bad that Harry still didn't know who Remus truly was… but whether or not Remus told him was still his decision.

Suddenly wondering if Remus met him on the train, he looked over at said-person to see that Remus was also smiling slightly, though still looking hesitant… as though unsure that he deserved to be here among all the other teachers in their finest robes while he was in nothing but his worn out clothes.

With any luck, a year of teaching will change all that and help boost his confidence. He had to be sure to give him some new robes for Christmas as well.

His eyes suddenly glanced over at Severus, who was still looking bad-tempered from their talk earlier and was looking at Remus with the utmost loathing. Albus shut his eyes for a second before he looked back to his students after their halfhearted applause and said brightly, looking forward to how they will take this next piece of news…

"Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs."

Poor Silvanus more than earned to spend the rest of his life peacefully; though he will without a doubt be missed from the staff. "However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his game keeping duties."

'_Hagrid more than deserved it,'_ he thought pleased and he felt the need to laugh at everyone's stunned expressions before they all broke into loud applause. The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables were especially noisy as they clapped and thunder the tables. Albus looked over to see Hagrid's embarrassed face and the wide grin behind his beard as he wiped his tears on his handkerchief.

The clapping went on for a long time, and rather predictably, the trio were the last to finally stop and when Albus started talking again, Hagrid was now openly sobbing with tears of happiness. Feeling that he had addressed everything that needed to be said, he called out, "Well, I think that's everything of importance. Let the feast begin!"

As talk broke out again, Albus turned to Remus and asked him quietly, "So I overheard that Harry took ill on the train?"

Remus blinked in surprise before nodding. "Yes," he answered. "It was the Dementors. As soon as they came into the compartment, he just fainted. One of the worse reactions I've seen in a long time. I mean, I know that the Dementors are hard on everyone who comes in contact with them, but with Harry, the effects seemed rather extreme."

Albus sighed, knowing full well what the Dementors must've showed the poor boy. He looked up at the table once again to see the three of them eating fast—talking and laughing like everyone else. Albus didn't need to be there to know what it was Harry must've seen… Voldemort. But exactly what Harry actually saw and heard… he couldn't be a hundred percent sure and he most likely didn't want to.

Not wanting to dwell on it any longer he asked him, "So what do you think of our young Mr. Potter?"

Again, Remus looked slightly startled at the question before he also looked over at Harry. "He's… just like you described. He looks like James… but it's almost like… like he has Lily's soul."

Albus smiled again, though rather sadly. "They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. I guess, in Harry's case, it's true. Harry has inherited the best qualities of both his parents. I also arranged so that you'll be having your first class with the third years. I would like to see your opinion on how well that they do. I hope you have something exciting planned. Let's just say that their last two teachers… ah… didn't quite live up to standards."

In Quirrel's case, this turned out to be true.

"But why are you so interested…?" Remus began.

"I have always valued your opinion, Remus," he told him with a slight nod of the head. "And it is so good to be able to talk with someone who shares so many of the same interests that I do."

They continued to talk for a long time after that until the desserts appeared and Albus struck up conversation with Minerva about the Time Turner.

"I really think that you should've tried to talk Miss Granger out of taking so many classes," he said worriedly. "I tried that myself in my third year and I can't begin to tell you just how worn down I was by the end of that year."

She shrugged hopelessly, "I tried, Dumbledore, believe me I tried, but she said that she was sure of what she was getting herself into. Nothing I said would change her mind. She promised to drop a couple subjects at the end of the year however. She is a model student, and she has sworn not to tell anyone else of about the Time Turner…" she trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

Albus nodded, "I see. But I think that this year will be very hard on her. I hope that she drops those subjects soon."

Once the desserts vanished and everyone was looking full and sleepy, he announced that that it was time for them all to head off to bed. As everyone else got up and headed off to their dorms, the trio came running over to the staff table to talk to Hagrid.

"Congratulations, Hagrid!" he heard Miss Granger squeal in happiness.

"All down ter you three," said Hagrid, wiping his beaming face on his tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs. "Can' believe it… great man, Dumbledore… came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough… It's what I always wanted…"

Albus smiled, so glad that Hagrid was so happy; though he did have to disagree with one thing. Albus didn't do a thing. Hagrid more than earned it long ago; and when Silvanus Kettleburn felt that it was finally time to retire, he couldn't think of anyone else to take over the job of Care of Magical Creatures; especially when Hagrid's name was cleared the year before.

As Hagrid burst into tears again Minerva came over and told them to go to bed.

Feeling jollier than ever, Albus went off to bed later that night. But as he shut his eyes, he couldn't help but think that this was bound to be another difficult year… he could only pray that it wouldn't be as dangerous as the last two.


	27. First New Lessons

**Chapter 27: First New Lessons**

Though it was only the first day back, Albus was already working. He had just fished out a book that he removed from the shelves of the Hogwarts library when he had been named Headmaster, and was looking through it… hoping for more information.

"_Secrets of the Darkest Art"_ was sitting in front of him and Albus was looking up for one particular chapter:

_Tamper with the deepest mysteries—the source of life, the essence of self—only if prepared for consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind. For the __**Horcrux**__ is a very powerful object in which a Dark wizard or witch has hidden a fragment of his or her soul for the purpose of attaining immortality. Creating but a single Horcrux allows one to gain the ability to resurrect themselves as a sort of "phantom form" if their body is destroyed. It is possible to create more than one Horcrux and the more that one creates; the closer one is to achieving immortality. Creating multiple Horcruxes is suggested to be costly to the creator, by both diminishing their humanity and even physically disfiguring them. It is possible to put the wizard's or witch's soul back together, but it is excruciatingly painful. (See page 434 for more details how)._

_The first Horcrux was created by Herpo the Foul. Creation of a Horcrux is considered by many to be the foulest act of Dark magic, as it attempts to violate and push the laws of nature and morality to their limits. Horcruxes are objects considered to be so evil that even many who practice the most terrible kinds of Dark magic would never attempt to experiment with them. _

_The specific processes involved are known to involve a spell and a very horrible act. To split one's soul, one must also commit the most supreme act of evil—murder—which will then encase a portion of their fractured soul into a chosen object. The fractured soul fragment will always remain as it is when it was divided. _

_To create a Horcrux is to divide one's soul—the very "essence of who you are"—and it is therefore in the creation of a Horcrux that the victim will sooner or later—suffer severe consequences or the nasty side effects that comes with the Horcrux._

_One of these such side-effects is the "dehumanising" effect the mutilation of one's soul. Of course, this initial consequence of dehumanisation has its own side effect by itself. The less human you become by Horcrux creation then the person in question will lose their sense of morality, increasing the likelihood that they will become even less human until there is nothing left. In other words, Horcrux creation may be thought of as a "downward spiral" until one reaches the limit, at which point they can't even be considered once human._

Albus sighed as he closed the book with disgust. The only known book that provides specific instruction on the creation of a Horcrux is _Secrets of the Darkest Art,_ once held in the Hogwarts Library. Due to the book's extremely dark and dangerous nature, Albus decided to hide it away in his own private study. He did not destroy it, however—deciding to keep it around… just in case.

He laced his fingers together and rested his chin upon them as he thought about what he just read up on. Just a few months ago, when young Harry handed him the remains of the diary that caused all the attacks last year…

He shuddered at the memories as he got up and returned the book to his private study, once again, putting it on it's high shelf where he couldn't see it. It was too much of a reminder of his own dark past that he was unable to look at it for long.

"Well, sure didn't see this coming," called a somewhat put-out voice from above him.

Albus looked up from his large collection of books and at Everard who was brushing off his hat. "That kid is a little monster. Having a bad Dementor reaction isn't something to laugh at."

"And what do you mean by that, Everard?" Albus asked him politely turning his back on the shelves.

"That Malfoy boy," Everard answered shaking his head. "He's giving Harry a hard time because he passed out on the train."

"How is Harry anyway?" Albus asked calmly, though he was frowning. Dementors were no laughing matter, and he doubted very much that Draco fared any better.

"Oh, much better today," Everard explained. "Though he's in a bad mood for what Malfoy's saying. Can't really blame him for that. Anyway, I watched as they all got their schedules for today. And I need to know, just how many classes is Miss Granger taking this year?"

"I remember Minerva telling me that Miss Granger is taking every subject that Hogwarts has available," Albus confessed. "I believe that she applied her for a Time-Turner."

"Oh, really?" Phineas called scathingly. "You mean to tell me that you let a third-year girl have a Time-Turner? Even some of the older brats running around this pathetic excuse for a school are reckless with them and use it for their own advantages. She's just going to use it for who knows what!"

"You mean her classes?" Albus asked him smiling.

"Since when have you ever met a teenager that responsible?" Phineas called out indigently. "Besides, she'll crack under all that pressure soon enough. I bet that she'll be dropping her subjects like doxies in just a week."

"I personally hope so," Albus said gravely. "School is important, but it's not everything. If she continues then she'll be completely worn down in no time and will have to spend all her time focusing on her work."

"Oh, well, when you put it that way," Phineas said brightly. "Why didn't you make Potter do that? Save us the trouble of following him around all day and keeping a watch on…"

"We?" Dilys called rolling her eyes. "You only watched him once! And you did a very poor job if you ask me."

"Yes," Phineas said, pretending that he didn't hear that last part. "And let me tell you that I could think of many other things that I could've been doing instead of keeping an eye on such a trouble-making child…"

"Like what?" Dexter asked rolling his eyes. "Pretending to sleep and annoying the rest of us?"

"Why you idiotic…" Phineas began.

"Ok," Albus called, waving his hands down at them all as he looked to Everard, "Did Miss Granger tell anyone else about the Time-Turner?"

"Nope," Everard said with a popping sound and Albus nodded in head—expecting no less from her as Phineas snorted in disbelief. "She just changed the subject when they asked about her crazy schedule," Everard went on. "Last I saw them, they were all heading up to Divination."

Albus shook his head exasperated. "I have a feeling that they might regret that," he said with a slight laugh. "Just follow them around like always, Everard. I wish to hear how they think of these new classes."

Everard gave him a slightly annoyed look, but he turned and left.

"You mean to tell me that you're going to have him followed around even now?" Phineas asked with another snort. "Dumbledore, it's only the first day back. You can't expect Black to bother wasting his time going after the boy now do you? And speaking of Divination, why do you insist on having that old fraud of a teacher here? I always thought that you hated that subject."

"I don't necessary hate it," Albus explained to him. "And you are right that I never enjoyed it either. But I have my reasons for keeping Sybill here, as you already know Phineas."

"Oh, right," Phineas yawned in a bored way. "Something about a prophecy foretelling the fate of the world rests in the hands of a kid?"

"Sybill has no idea just how much danger she would be in if she were to leave the safety of the school," Albus explained.

"Just do whatever you want," he said as he leaned back on his seat. "Your actions are just annoying me."

_*Later*_

"Yes, Everard?" Albus called as he got up and ready to head down to lunch.

"Just thought I let you know," Everard said. "Trelawney was predicting Potter's death this time. Said she saw a Grim in his tea-leaves."

Albus shook his head in a incredulous way. Why wasn't he surprised at this? "Is Harry worried about this?"

"He was disturbed," Everard admitted. "At least until I overheard McGonagall talking about that old fraud when they went to her class next. Saying something about if he dies then he doesn't have to hand his homework in."

Albus had to fight back a laugh. "Yes, Minerva doesn't have any trouble voicing her opinion on Divination."

"As for the boys, they are starting to get suspicious to how Granger is getting to all her subjects."

"Yes, so would I if one of my best friends was taking so many classes," Albus agreed. "Well, I don't think we need to worry now. There doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary at the moment. I think we can leave Harry alone for the rest of the day."

_*A few days later*_

Albus rubbed his tired eyes as he finished writing his weekly report to Fudge, explaining that Sirius Black hadn't been spotted anywhere around the castle grounds and everything seemed to be as calm as usual. Just as he sent the owl off through the window, he looked up to see Dexter sitting there looking a little irritated about being made to wait to give his report.

"Sorry about that, Dexter," Albus said courteously. "But I wanted to get that letter over with as soon as possible."

Dexter shrugged, "I can't say that I blame you for that," he admitted. "Though you might wish that you waited with that before you have to waste parchment and write another explanation to the Ministry about what happened."

"Oh, no," Albus groaned. "What happened?"

"Well, how do I put this?" Dexter said thinking it over. "Hagrid has just ended his first ever class with the third years…"

"And?" Albus asked slowly, not liking where this was going.

"Well," Dexter said again uncomfortably. "Not completely sure what happened. Since they teach that class outside… but I was watching the front doors for them all to come back, and Hagrid came in carrying that Malfoy boy who had this big gash on his arm and covered with blood."

Albus groaned. Despite that boy being a rude, arrogant, and spoiled child—he was still one of his students and if there was one thing he hated it was when they got hurt when he was supposed to be protecting them.

"I knew it!" Phineas's voice called out. "I knew that making that oaf a teacher was a mistake. But nooooooo! Does anyone here listen to my advice? Why I outta…"

"No one takes your advice because no one likes you!"

"What? Why you dim-witted, poor excuse for a…"

"That's enough from both of you!" Albus called over the noise as he turned back to Dexter and asked with more urgency, "Just what happened?"

"I overheard the rest of the class talking about it when they all finally came in," Dexter went on, rubbing his hand over his face. "After Hagrid came in with the boy, the Slytherins were all yelling and complaining about getting Hagrid sacked…"

"Which he should be!" Phineas called.

"Enough Phineas!" Albus said to him angrily. "I will not be getting rid of Hagrid unless I am forced to." He turned back to Dexter—but not after feeling a bit of vindictive pleasure at seeing Phineas's furious look. "And then?"

"The Gryffindors were all defending Hagrid," Dexter went on.

"Of course they would," Phineas said; Albus didn't even bother to tell him off.

"From what I gathered, the Hippogriff either went mad and attacked Malfoy—or Malfoy insulted it and it attacked him," Dexter finished with a shrug. "Personally, I'm for the second explanation. You know how much Slytherins love to make up stories to get sympathy."

"I resent that!" Phineas yelled.

Albus thought this over. "I cannot believe that Hagrid would have any trouble controlling a Hippogriff. So yes, I would have to agree that young Draco did something wrong." He looked up at Dilys who sighed unhappily, already guessing what he was about to ask her to do.

"Dilys?"

"I know, I know," she said grimly. "I'm to go and check on Malfoy in the Hospital Wing."

"Actually, I was going to let you have the night off, but since you bring it up…?" Albus teased lightly and she looked outraged. After having a few minutes of indigent shouting, she left in a huff.

Albus shook his head fondly as he looked back to Dexter and said, "Follow the trio around. I'm sure that you'll get the whole story from them."

Dexter walked right of his portrait and left Albus to deal with an angry Phineas.

_*Later*_

It was just after dinner when Albus was reading a message from the governors about the Hippogriff attack, when Dexter returned and told him what he overheard from the trio. "From what they said," he went on, "Hagrid showed them the Hippogriffs and was telling them all how proud Hippogriffs were and apparently Malfoy wasn't listening. Harry says that he's willing to bet that Malfoy was planning on some way to interrupt the lesson. Bet he didn't plan on getting hurt in the process though."

"Pathetic," Dilys called from above him. "I was watching him in the Hospital Wing and he's faking everything! I've seen many injuries and accidents when I visit my portrait at St. Mungo's, and I can tell you all that he's already healed up! There's not even a scar! But he's still whining that it hurts."

"What I tell you?" Dexter called wisely. "He's just milking it for all it's worth."

"How do you all know that he's not in any real pain?" Phineas called.

"Maybe because when Madam Pomfrey went to her office to get something, he stopped moaning and was smirking to himself?" Dilys said bitterly. "And when she came back in, he started it all over again!"

Albus shook his head. "He's doing this to try and get Hagrid fired. Even though Lucius is no longer on the Governors Board, he still holds a great deal of influence over the Ministry. They aren't going to let this go."

"They're not going to make you fire Hagrid are they?" Dexter asked with concern.

"I doubt they'll get the chance," Albus said, thinking it over. "No, I am sure that I can convince them that Hagrid meant no harm… but the Hippogriff is another matter."

He frowned as he looked back up and asked, "What did you overhear about the Hippogriff?"

"I heard his name was Buckbeak," Dexter answered. "He's the big gray one I think?"

Albus nodded, remembering seeing the beautiful creature himself several times. Oh, he felt even worse for Hagrid, he knew that Buckbeak was Hagrid's favorite Hippogriff out of the herd that he bred.

"Turns out that Harry was actually able to ride him," Dexter said which brought Albus back to earth with an unpleasant surprise.

"He rode on the Hippogriff?" Everard asked eagerly while several others cried out either concern or impressed.

"I can't believe that Hagrid would let a child actually ride on of those things during his first lesson!" Dilys called out in horror. "As much as I love Hagrid, he shouldn't have moved so fast!"

"Yes," Albus agreed quietly. "I know that he would never want any of the students hurt… but there is still a chance that it could end badly if he gets to confident or goes to quickly. Was Harry or any of the others injured?"

"Why am I not surprised that Potter is at the top of your 'To Worry' list?" Phineas said and Albus pretended that he didn't even hear him as Dexter assured him, "No, Harry's fine. So are all the others, minus Malfoy of course. Harry said that flying a Hippogriff isn't his favorite form of flying…"

Albus smiled to himself, knowing full well how uncomfortable on the back of a Hippogriff can be and privately agreed with Harry. He sighed as he stood up. "I'll be heading down to Hagrid's hut," he announced. He knew that Hagrid must be scared out of his mind by now. He didn't see him at dinner, which wasn't a good sign, and wanted to make sure that he was alright.

"Alright," Dexter said comfortably yawning and leaning back. "You might run into our trio while you're down there. I saw them leaving to go and pay him a visit."

Albus smiled. "That would be good for Hagrid."

He left not long after that and headed straight down the staircases and reached the Great Hall in no time at all. But as he reached the front doors, he saw it opening and he stepped back into the shadows to see what was going on.

"But Hagrid!"

"We just wanted to make sure that you were ok!"

"We're allowed to walk across the grounds! It's not even dark yet!"

"I DON' CARE!" he suddenly heard Hagrid's voice shouting. And a second later he pushed Harry, Ron, and Hermione into the room with such force that they fell onto the stone. "IT'S NOT SAFE THESE DAYS! YER COULD'VE BEN KILLED!"

"From what?" Ronald Weasley shouted back loudly as he untangled himself from the other two and stood up to glare back at Hagrid fiercely. "Since when was it a crime to go and visit you?"

"Never yer mind!" Hagrid growled harshly. "You three go straigh' up to the common room! 'nd I don' want yer to visit me again after hours! Yer hear me?"

The trio all gave him grumpy looks before they turned and walked right up the grand staircase without even looking back.

"He's making it sound like Sirius Black's already gotten pass the Dementors," Albus heard Harry say bitterly once Hagrid had slammed the door shut.

"He's just worried about you, Harry," Hermione said, though she too looked upset. "But really, I thought that he would know better. You aren't supposed to know that Sirius Black's after you. He really should've known better then to react like that…"

"Don't you mean _over_react?" Ron asked grouchily.

Albus felt his insides freeze as he watched them all head up the stairs and out of his sight and earshot. He had no idea that Harry already knew that Sirius Black was after him. They were all doing everything in their power to keep this hidden so not to worry the boy and let him enjoy his youth like he should've been all along. But he got a quick glimpse of Harry's face, he noticed that he didn't seem as scared as he thought he would be. Then again… he supposed that he should've seen this coming. The trio was infamous for knowing more than they were supposed to.

Sighing, he finished his walk to the front doors and when he stepped out, he saw Hagrid's massive back marching off in the direction of his hut. Shaking his head slightly, he called out, "Hagrid!"

Hagrid turned around with that bad-tempered look, at least until he saw who it was and whitened. Albus smiled kindly back at him as he calmly walked to him and silently gestured to accompany him back to his hut.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," Hagrid croaked, and Albus couldn't help but notice the soaking wet beard and the smell of alcohol on his breath.

He clapped Hagrid's large arm and said, "We really must do something about that drinking habit of your's Hagrid."

"Y-yes, o' course, sir," he said with a slight stutter.

They both walked on in silence, Hagrid looking at him every once in awhile with a scared look on his face. Albus smiled back at him and said, "I wanted to come see you about the Hippogriff."

Hagrid flinched horribly as they neared the cabin.

"And I just wanted to let you know that I don't blame you in the slightest, Hagrid," Albus assured him once they reached the paddock.

Hagrid stopped dead as Albus continued to walk as if nothing had happened. By the time that he reached the paddock, Hagrid had come back to his sense and quickly caught up with him.

"Y-yeh don't sir?" he asked croakily.

"Hagrid? How long have I known you?" Albus asked kindly. "I know that you would never let any of the students be in harm's way. Despite your history of—ah—keeping creatures that are best left to the professionals, I know that you would never let things get out of your hands. If you are worried about your job, Hagrid… I'm afraid that you'll continue to be part of my staff as long as I have something to say about it."

He looked at the herd of Hippogriffs that were all roaming the paddock, their beaks in the dirt and digging for worms while Hagrid let out a sob of relief. Albus patted his arm gently as Hagrid blew into his large handkerchief and sobbed out, "Thank yeh, professor Dumbledore sir. Yer have no idea how worrie' I was. I though fer sure that…"

Albus shook his head and looked back to the Hippogriffs. "I mean it Hagrid. I'm not going to fire you unless I have no other choice. But now tell me…" he gestured towards the Hippogriffs. "Which one attacked young Mr. Malfoy?"

"Thar… thar be Buckbeak over here," Hagrid sniffed and he blew into his handkerchief and pointed to a beautiful grey Hippogriff.

"They really are beautiful aren't they?" Albus asked, and without waiting for an answer, climbed over the fence to where Buckbeak was digging. The Hippogriff looked up at him and surveyed him through his large eyes. Without breaking eye contact, Albus bowed lowed and waited for Buckbeak to bow back before he walked over and began to stroke his silky neck.

As he petted him, he looked back at Hagrid who was watching them both. "Tell me, what happened today, Hagrwid?"

"I'm not ter sure meself professor," Hagrid admitted tearfully. "I was telling them all just 'ow proud and beautiful they ar sir. When I turned around, Malfoy was on the ground, sir."

Albus nodded. "Yes, I overheard some of the students talking about how it was Draco who messed up your first class? Apparently, he wasn't paying attention and insulted Buckbeak here. I am sorry, Hagrid. I know just how much you wanted your first class to be a success."

Hagrid sniffled; Albus didn't think that Hagrid needed to know that it was his portraits who told him about what happened.

"School gov'nors have bin told I know…" said Hagrid croaked suddenly blowing hard. "They kep' telling me that I started ter big and shoulda done something tiny like flobberworms or Kneazles. Jus' thought it'd make a good firs' lesson's is all. Is all my ruddy fault…"

"And if things had turned out differently than it would have been an excellent first lesson, Hagrid," Albus told him sadly. "I'm afraid that if Draco was paying attention then it never would've happened. You started off with a subject that was sure to get them all interested like any good teacher would do."

"Ar, I don' know professor Dumbledore, sir," Hagrid moaned. "Maybe you shoulda found another teacher. Someone who knows wha' ter do in class."

Albus led Buckbeak back to the edge of the fence to where Hagrid stood there shaking and Buckbeak put his head near Hagrid's hand, demanding to be stroked. Hagrid smiled at him and continued to pat his beak as Buckbeak closed his eyes lazily.

Albus smiled at them both before he said, "You don't really mean that do you Hagrid? Now, I wasn't so sure how well I would do at my very first lesson either and I had to go through many trials and errors until I found what worked for me. And let me tell you that I wouldn't have traded that experience for anything. In fact, there are plenty of times when I wish that I was still in the Transfiguration classroom. Now…" he clapped his hands together and climbed back over the fence. "I want you to clean yourself up and get ready for class tomorrow. I believe you have it with the fifth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws?"

Hagrid sobbed again as Albus led him back inside his cabin and set him down at the table. "And I think that I would also be for the best if you don't drink anymore tonight. Keep this up and you won't be able to get out of bed tomorrow to join us all for breakfast."

Hagrid nodded and promised him that he would do better. Albus was about to leave when he remembered, "Oh, and Hagrid?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Next time, I think that it would be for the best if you don't shout at your friends when they came down to make sure that you're alright," he said and Hagrid looked at him in surprise. "Perhaps if you were to explain it to them more gently they would've gotten the message much better?"

Still smiling at him, he turned and left the hut.

_*A Few Days Later*_

Albus was putting a few more books back up on the shelves when Armando waved at him from above the desk.

"Well, Malfoy finally went back to class today," Armando informed him. "He turned up halfway through Potions. I watched him go skipping down to the Dungeons. Can't tell you exactly what happened I'm afraid. You know there aren't any pictures down there. You really should consider putting some in though."

"But you have something to tell me anyway about what happened?" Albus asked, knowing full well that Severus favored his Slytherins.

Armando shrugged. "That Snape sure isn't making himself popular… neither is Malfoy come to think of it. I overheard Weasley complaining about them when they were heading up for lunch. Apparently Malfoy is going around trying to get sympathy from everyone after what happened to his arm. You know that he's still wearing the bandages? Which doesn't change the fact that Madam Pomfrey never would've let him leave if he wasn't 100 percent recovered? He got Snape on his side and made Harry and Ron prepare his ingredients for him."

"Why that disgusting little slime ball," several of the portraits yelled and Phineas chuckled in appreciation.

"So what else?" Albus asked shaking his head.

Armando shrugged. "Other than a lot of insults and swearing on Mr. Weasley's part, it sounded like yet another bad day."

Albus was thinking that over just as Armando said, "And Malfoy was trying to gloat our young Mr. Potter into going after Black."

Albus blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?" he asked hurriedly as he froze.

"From what Harry told Hermione," Armando went on as the other portraits looked at him eagerly. "Malfoy as good as told them that he was faking it all. And then they heard about how Black was spotted."

"Yes," Albus said, nodding at the paper on his desk talking about how a Muggle woman had spotted him while she was hanging her laundry out to dry not too far from here. "I fear that Sirius Black is indeed coming here."

"You don't think that Black will actually get in here do you?" he asked concerned.

"Remembering him from school," Albus said sadly, "And his gift at sneaking around and unable to get caught, I can't rule anything out. But what did you mean that Draco was trying to gloat Harry into going after Black?"

"Well, you know that the Malfoy's have been serving Voldemort all this time," he said with disgust. "So they would know about who Black was…"

Albus had gone very white and asked with a slight air of panic in his tone, "He didn't tell Harry the truth did he?"

"Thankfully, no," Armando assured him, and Albus felt a warm relief go through him. "From what it sounded like… Malfoy apparently thought that Harry already knew. He was telling Harry to go out and try to get revenge on Black."

Albus was making mental notes to have a talk with Severus to keep a closer eye on his Slytherins. And it looked like he wasn't the only one thinking that.

"And I really think that you should tell off your Potion's Master," Armando said rather coldly. "I overheard Longbottom crying. Something about Snape threatening to poison his toad if he got the potion wrong."

Albus felt his jaw drop. "He did what?"

"Yeah," Armando informed him as the other paintings let out shouts of anger and insults. Albus couldn't believe how Severus could be so cruel to a child that he would actually threaten to kill his pet. He was sure that Severus would never actually kill the toad… but still… to scare a child like that?

He shook his head; he was definitely going to be having a word with him about this. "Anything else?"

Armando shook his head, "Just that Hermione made a little slip."

When Albus looked confused, he elaborated, "They were all climbing the stairs together and when the boys weren't looking she used the Time Turner and disappeared. When they looked around for her, they saw her running up the stairs again."

"Do they suspect anything?" Albus asked, wondering what they were going to do if they discovered what Miss Granger was hiding.

"They're curious," he admitted. "But they didn't ask to many questions."

Albus just nodded before he brightened up and asked, "That's good to hear. You can all take the night off. I know that they have their first class with Remus a little later and I want to ask Remus in person what happens.

_*Later*_

Albus was waiting a little impatiently for Remus to arrive, though he didn't show it. He was drumming his fingers on the table while all the students started to pour in like a flood. Finally, Remus Lupin came in as one of the last—and Albus was glad to see him looking much healthier than he had been all year. The House-elves' food was really doing a wonders for him.

He smiled at Remus, who returned it brightly as he took the seat Albus offered right next to him and sat down. Once the food appeared and the talk broke out, Albus took the chance to ask him, "So, Remus… how was your first class today?"

"It went well," Remus said, sounding like he had been expecting him to ask. Which, Albus reminded himself, he probably was. "We worked on Boggarts today and they all seemed to enjoy themselves."

"Yes, I overheard some of them on my way down here in fact, and ah… what was this about one of my staff members in a dress?" he asked fighting a smile.

Remus chuckled as he looked down the table to see Severus looking as cold and unemotional as usual before he said in a whisper as if afraid that Severus would hear him, "Mr. Neville Longbottom's Boggart was Professor Snape."

Albus raised his eyebrows as he glanced over to the Gryffindor table to see Neville looking cheerful as he talked eagerly with several other third years. To hear that Severus scared him the most surprised Albus… but only a little.

"And let me guess…" Albus said with a slight smile, already figuring out what Remus did.

"I merely offered a helpful suggestion," Remus answered with a smile.

Albus laughed as he glanced over at the boy again before saying, "Well, it sounds like you've helped with Mr. Longbottom's confidence, who I've heard has always been rather low. It seems like it won't be long now before you become a favorite teacher."

Remus shrugged. "Oh, I doubt that. I merely try to listen to them and make the classes enjoyable."

"Which is why you are a natural teacher, Remus," Albus finished for him happily. But his smile soon turned into a grimace as he asked him, "By the way… did you by any chance read the paper today?"

Remus's expression also turned solemn as he nodded. "Black isn't far from here." He looked up at the tables and Albus didn't need to guess to know what he was looking at… or rather _who_ he was looking at. Which brought up another question…

"Ah, yes, and how did Harry do?"

"He answered my question correctly," Remus said, now looking up at the ceiling at the clear starry sky. "He's got a lot of potential. But I did notice that he's a bit _too_ modest. Not at all like James was."

"Yes," Albus agreed with a small chuckle. "James loved attention and went out of his way to get it, while his son tries hard to avoid it at all costs. If you ask me, Harry is just like Lily used to be. Very humble and kind… and just like Lily—has the urge to always defend the underdog."

'_Yes,'_ he thought back to Harry's last two years and he had to admit that Harry always seemed to go out of his way to help the losing side and still win. Something that Lily was also known for doing while she was still a student. He glanced back down at Severus sadly before he turned back to Remus who was chucking at the memories and asked, his smiled disappearing again, "Do you really think that Sirius will try to kill Harry?"

"It certainly seems that way," Albus sighed dejectedly.

Remus ran his hand through his hair in an irritated way. "I just can't believe it. Out of all the people I knew… Sirius Black was one of the last people that I would ever suspect to join Voldemort. He spent every waking second at Godric's Hallow and played with Harry. To think that he would ever try to kill that same baby that he once loved so dearly? I just can't believe it."

"I know," Albus said sadly. "I sometimes have trouble believing it as well. But why else would he come here if not for Harry?"

He heaved a sigh again as he asked, "You will keep a close eye on Harry for me won't you, Remus?"

When Remus nodded and they let the matter drop… leaving Albus thinking that all they could do now was hope that their protection would be enough.

**(Sorry for taking so long. Had some other things to do. But to make up for it, I give you all a long chapter! Hope you all enjoy it! And next time we have Halloween with Sirius breaking into the castle! What will Albus do when he suspects that Sirius might be lurking in the school?)**


	28. The Sounds of Screams

**Chapter 28: The Sounds of Screams**

These days when Albus walked through the castle's corridors, he often heard his students talking about Remus Lupin's lessons and how quickly they became their new favorite class. Only a handful of Slytherins seemed to find anything to complain about them… but then again, Albus knew that the Slytherins loved complaining about anything so it didn't bother him. He knew that deep down they loved the class as much as everyone else.

He even asked some of his portraits to inform him on what Remus's classes were like and they always reported back with positive results—not that he was surprised. He remembered fondly how Remus had always had a gift for teaching that—sadly—so few had.

"Looks like they're finally learning something useful in that subject," Dilys once said after a few quiet weeks. "They're covering a lot of information in such a short time."

"Well, look at what they had to put up with for the last few years," Everard commented lightly. "They all have two years worth of information to catch up on at least. Not only was Voldemort hanging around Quirrell, he stuttered so much that no one could understand him… and I think even a troll could've taught better than that Lockhart. Honestly, I wish someone thought to erase that man's memory sooner."

"What did they learn today?" Albus asked brightly as he looked through the Prophet for any interesting news, but he was listening carefully. "I know that they've already covered Boggarts, Red Caps, and Kappas…?"

"Oh, I overheard Professor Lupin talking about teaching them all Grindylows next," Dilys informed him and Albus nodded approvingly.

"It sounds like the students are enjoying their classes," he said smiling. "I'm please to hear it. It makes me wish that Remus took the job sooner."

"Pffft. Students shouldn't be enjoying them!" Phineas snapped grumpily. "What's the world coming to when those brats are having fun in class? School isn't a place for them to be having a good time!"

"It's important for students to enjoy their classes, Phineas," Albus said, still looking through the Prophet. "It gets them excited for learning. And encourages them to do well and show up on time."

"Pffft," Phineas snorted again. "Just give them some detentions and it'll get them learning in no time."

"With far less good results," Albus interrupted firmly.

"And you wonder why you're the least popular Headmaster!" Dexter yelled at Phineas in a taunting way.

"If I want your opinion I'll ask for it!" Phineas shouted back.

But Albus had far more important things to deal with than his portraits fighting. From all the complaining he'd been hearing from the students in the halls, Severus was becoming something of a problem. As Albus suspected, it didn't take any time at all for the news of Neville Longbottom's Boggart to travel through the school. Once it reached Severus's ears, it put his Potion's Master in an even worse mood. Severus was more irritable than ever these days—especially when it came to Remus—and he was treating the students in such a way that it wasn't anything short of bullying.

Albus had tried talking to him about this, but he just turned a blind eye and deaf ear to his words. If this kept up, then Albus would have to seriously consider putting his foot down. He gave Severus a lot of free rein over the years, but this was starting to get out of hand.

"He doesn't know when to let a grudge go if you ask me," Dilys said coldly. "I mean I know that he turned his life around and is on our side now… but does he really have to terrorize children the same way that he was when he was here?"

Albus sighed unhappily. He had always wished that Severus could learn to break away from the past and move on. Unfortunately, he also knew that there are some scars that ran too deep for the healing. He ran a hand over the Elder wand that was in his pocket and the image of a teenage boy with thick, golden curls entered his mind…

_*Flashback*_

_No one could deny that Gellert Grindelwald was a powerful wizard with a brilliant mind. Albus knew this all too well. After his mother had died, he had been forced to return to Godric's Hallow to care for his brother and sister. Where he would be trapped and wasted in that miserable, old house while the rest of the world passed him by. This would go on at least until his brother had graduated from Hogwarts. He knew that, as the oldest, it was his job to take care of them both for now. But Aberforth still had two more years before he left school… which meant that Albus had two years to wait before he was allowed to leave and become great like he deserved. _

_At least until a teenage boy with an impish grin and golden hair arrived to visit his aunt… that was when everything changed._

_They were introduced, and quickly became fast friends—so glad to finally find someone with their level of intelligence and interests. Over the next few weeks, they talked and made plans of power and dreams of changing the world. Albus and Gellert were both very gifted, cunning, and undoubtedly ambitious as they planned everything out. As for Gellert, every single decision he made was calculated, very precise, and careful in every way possible. The two of them would spend countless hours going over maps and strategies… _

_Aberforth didn't make things any easier for them, constantly interrupting them and getting into trouble with the neighbors. It made it even more difficult to come up with their carefully laid-out plans with such a loose cannon there with them. Not that they paid him much attention anyway. They blocked him out… focused only on each other… they both knew what they wanted and sought to get it, no matter what the cost. They had a plan ready to go._

_"Don't you see, Albus?" Gellert once said while they were pouring over the Tales of Beedle the Bard. "Witches and Wizards are born with great powers. Why must we be forced to hide then from the Muggles when it's clear that we are far superior? We have the ability to achieve greatness, Albus. Can't you see? As wizards, we were meant to reign over Muggles and change everything! We can all come out of hiding and use our magic in the open just like it was meant to be! This is the way things will be once we take control of our destines as saviors!" _

_Albus looked up at him, half-excited, half-uncertain. But when he stared at his friend's face, the gleeful, mischievous look was strangely distorted and for a short second… became twisted, while his eyes that normally sparkled were instead coated with an icy cruelty at the idea of reining over others. But Albus blinked and the look was gone—back to his normal, trouble-making appearance. He bit his lower lip, deciding that it was just a trick of the light and nodded._

_Gellert grinned at him. "Good. You're in. I mean, this idea of living alongside with Muggles has gone on long enough! Why must we be forced to hid in the darkness when they all get to live in the light?"_

"_I agree with that," Albus nodded to himself. "Yes. Why should we be forced into hiding? Be forced to keep our magic, our gifts, secret? We should be allowed to walk in broad daylight and not think twice about who sees us pull out our wands!"_

"_And think about what heroes the two of us will be when we bring magic out of the dark?" Gellert asked with a grin. "Why our names will go down in history."_

"_But don't you think that forcing the Muggles into submission a bit extreme?" Albus asked as he brushed a strand of his urban hair out of his face._

_"As you once said to me, Albus," Gellert said with a rather wicked grin. "It's for the greater good. Don't worry about the tiny details right now… think about the bigger picture. Whatever the costs… they will be worth it in the end."_

_*End of Flashback*_

It was only a few days later did he see what his plans had cost him… and they were most definitely _**not**_ worth it.

It's hard to leave the past behind… Albus knew that better than anyone.

He sighed heavily as he folded his newspaper up and laid it down on his desk before he leaned forward to hide his face in his hands. Even after a century… his sister's death still hit him hard. He knew that it was his selfishness and stupidity that caused the light to fade from her eyes… he knew that it was his fault that he never spent any real time with her. Only putting up with her when he had to… in the end, he was forced to admit that he didn't even know his sister. Never bothered himself with getting to know what she liked and didn't…

He didn't even know what her favorite color was… her favorite flower, books, or food… or even asked her what **she** wanted for once instead of focusing on his own selfish ambitions. And he never would.

She was dead. And he had no one to blame but himself.

He shook his head hard, not wanting to see into the past any longer. Desperate for any kind of distraction, "Dexter?" he called to the empty portrait, hoping for a quick reply. And to his relief, almost instantly, the former Headmaster appeared.

"You called?" he asked in a causal-sounding tone before he yawned in a tired way and said, "I'm in the middle of my shift right now. Unless there someone else I should spy on for you while I'm at it?"

"I was just wondering if anything interested happened today?" he asked calmly, eager for a good change of subject.

"Don't you mean, if Potter so much as sneezed?" Phineas asked with distaste in his voice. Albus and the others all just ignored him—far too used to his insults and sarcastic remarks to care.

"Well, they found out about the first trip to Hogsmeade this weekend," Dexter answered evenly. "And from what it looks like, Harry isn't going."

"Really?" Phineas asked in surprise. "Now that's a first, I thought for sure that he would be one of the first into that village to buy Dungbombs and Stink Pellets along with the rest of those little monsters."

"Why isn't he going?" Albus asked, frowning slightly. From what he learned from Harry's personality, he had been sure that the boy would've jumped at the chance to explore the village… unless…

Dexter shrugged again. "Apparently, those no-good relatives of his wouldn't sign his form," he answered with a tone of antipathy. "He sure seems depressed about not being allowed to go."

Albus felt his heart clench tightly for a moment as—for no apparent reason—the image of Ariana being forbidden to leave the house came back to him.

"Oh, why don't you just get it over with already?" Phineas called out sardonically.

"Get what over with, Phineas?" Albus asked politely; glad to return to the present.

"Don't give us that," Phineas retorted, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "It's obvious that you want to give the kid permission to get out of the castle. It's written all over your face!"

"I'm afraid that I can't do that, Phineas," Albus told him lightly. "Of course, I feel bad for any student who isn't allowed to go and enjoy themselves. Unfortunately, there isn't much I can do about this."

Phineas snorted. "I'm getting real sick of this. Why not just come out and admit that Potter's your favorite? Why you're so interested in such a hopeless student I can't imagine…"

"Ok, that's enough Phineas," Albus said calmly. But he couldn't help but feel annoyed with him.

"Well, with all the other students gone, it should be easier to keep an eye on him though," Armando offered half-heartedly.

"He's got some real guts I'll give him that," Dexter said with a small laugh. "He actually went to go ask McGonagall if he could go."

"Don't tell me…" Albus smiled as the other portraits let out shouts of laughter, all knowing what the Transfiguration teacher would've said.

"What do you think she said?" he asked him, holding up his hands in a shrug and shook his head. "She refused point blank. Wouldn't listen to any of the excuses he came up with. But I think that she might've felt bad for the kid—I have to admit that he looked a bit like a wiped puppy after she said no."

"What?" Phineas said waving his hand away. "McGonagall feeling bad for someone else? Please, that woman's heart's like stone. She'd never…"

"You'd be surprised at how much she cares about her pupils," Albus immediately defended his old friend. "And how fiercely she fights to protect them." He turned back to Dexter and asked, "Anything else you want to report?"

"Nothing too interesting," Dexter confessed. "Unless you want to count the fact that Granger's cat tried to eat Weasley's rat yesterday. I saw the whole thing in the common room. That cat is just fixed on eating its owner's best friends' pet."

Albus raised his eyebrows. "I get the feeling that Mr. Weasley wasn't thrilled about that."

Dexter let out a hallow laugh. "That rat looked pretty sickly anyway if you ask me. But it was actually pretty comical the way that the cat jumped up and attacked Weasley. The rat then took off and went running all over the common room. Not that I mean to be insensitive, but Granger seems to be a bit cold about other people's pets."

"What do you mean by that?" Albus asked curiously as he folded his hands on his desk.

"Oh, it's just a bad week for pet owners. See, one of the other students… Miss Brown I think her name is? Anyway, she got a letter from home saying that her pet rabbit died. She was really upset."

"I would imagine so," Albus nodding sadly, feeling for the poor girl.

"What's with students and their pets?" Phineas asked annoyed. "They're just animals."

"So are you," Dilys said icily under her breath.

"What was that?" Phineas shouted at her from two paintings away.

"Nothing," she replied coolly. "Something must be wrong with your hearing."

"I'll have you know that my hearing is…"

"Anyway," Dexter had to scream to make himself heard over their argument. "That Brown girl was going around saying that Trelawney predicted something bad would happen to her on the 16th of October, so now she's treating everything that woman says as if her words are pure gold. And when Granger tried talking sense into her, it did sound a bit compassionless."

"And?" Albus asked.

"Mr. Weasley said that she didn't think that other people's pets matter much."

"Well that was rude," Dilys said folding her arms.

"But that is how she sounded," Dexter owned up to. "But they seemed to put that aside when they talked to Potter just before they left."

"I see… it's a sign of good friends when they're able to put their differences aside for their other friends. I'm glad that the three of them have each other. But please, just keep a closer eye on Harry today," Albus said, still feeling terrible for the boy. "With everyone else going, I'm curious to see what he does on his own."

_*Later*_

Albus was getting ready to go down to the Halloween feast, silently hoping that this one won't be as ah… eventful as the last two. Just as he put on his best hat, he heard Dexter's voice once again.

"Why not give the kid permission to go?"

Albus looked up as he tucked his wand into his pocket. "Let who go where?" he asked, though he had a good idea who Dexter was talking about.

"Don't act like you don't know," Phineas said snidely from his side of the room.

"I felt so bad for the kid wandering around on his own," Dexter said with a frown. "He looked so lonely… it was almost heart-breaking really."

"I assume that you're talking about Harry?" Albus asked as he handed a large cuttlebone to Fawkes who trilled happily and began gnawing at it.

"Who else?"

"Did something happen?"

"Nope. But Lupin invited him to tea," he informed him, shrugging.

Albus was slightly surprised by that, but he couldn't stop the smile that came to his face. He had been hoping that Remus would open up to Harry.

"You sure that you want your _Golden Boy_ Potter alone with a werewolf?"

"Now, Phineas," Albus said softly. "James was one of Remus's best friends and he hadn't seen Harry since he was a baby. I'm sure that he still cares very much about him even after all these years." He then asked Dexter. "Did Remus tell him anything?"

"Nothing in particular," Dexter sighed. "Potter still doesn't know who Remus really is. But Lupin did show him the Grindylow that he asked Hagrid to get out of the lake for him. Oh, and they also talked about the Dementors and what happened with the Boggart."

"Really?" Albus asked interested.

"The day that Lupin taught them about Boggarts?" Dexter explained. "Lupin didn't want Harry to face it. It turns out that Lupin was afraid that Voldemort would appear and cause a panic."

"And that's not what Harry is most afraid of?" Albus asked quickly, astonished—he was now listening to every word.

"He came right out and told him that it was the Dementors," Dexter said grimly. "Looks like you and Harry have another thing in common. You both hate those creatures."

Albus stared at him as he digested this new information. "Well, well… I'm very impressed," he said finally, thinking this over. "So it's _fear_ that Harry is most afraid of. And even more interesting, is that though Harry knows nothing about Remus, he still trusts him enough to talk about his fears."

"Oh, and by the way, Snape came in with Lupin's potion," Dexter informed him. "And I can't help but think Harry's getting suspicious."

"Does he have any idea what it's for?" Albus asked promptly, dreading that Harry was already figuring out what Remus was.

"How could he?" Dexter asked. "But you know as well as I do how curious that boy is. He's sure to figure something's up sooner or later. Though I think that it's more along the lines that Harry thinks that Snape's trying to poison Lupin."

Albus chuckled at that. "What makes you think that?"

"He told Ron and Hermione when they got back," he answered as if it was obvious. "Though I have to agree that Snape sure isn't making himself look innocent the way he treats everyone. He walks around with an attitude that clearly says that he's about to poison someone. But I also agree with Granger when I say that Snape wouldn't have done it in front of Harry."

Albus nodded and stated, "Well, I know that Severus would never poison Remus. But you are right when you said that he's not making any fans with the way he's acting." Albus bade them all a good evening not long after that, and headed straight down to the feast—his thoughts still buzzing with all this newly-learned information.

_*Several hours later*_

Once again, it was a marvelous feast. With the hundreds of jack-o-lanterns floating above their heads, bats swooping down on them and dropped wonderful sweets on the heads of the students, all ending with the Hogwarts ghosts entertaining them. They popped out of the walls and tables for some impressive formation gliding and reenacting their deaths. Nearly Headless Nick, especially, had much applause when he reenacted his beheading.

Albus felt himself getting drowsy and thinking longingly of his bed that was now waiting for him. He stood up as soon as the desserts had vanished and announced for them all to go to bed. Once the students all left in floods to their respective dorms, he stretched and yawned. And he had just gotten through with a conversation with Minerva about how successful the feast was when it all came crashing down…

The two of them had just left the Great Hall together and were heading up the Grand Staircase when he heard Dexter screaming at him from a painting of astonished-looking monks. "Dumbledore! Dumbledore! You need to go up to the seventh floor! The Fat Lady's been attacked! You need to go and…"

"What is this?" Minerva demanded just as Remus and Severus also appeared and all four of them were looking up at Dexter.

"The Fat Lady!" Dexter repeated impatiently as if he thought they were slow. "She's been attacked! You all need to go up there and make sure that whatever attacked her doesn't go after the Gryffindors who are all there!"

Albus felt the blood leave his face, all thoughts of going to bed now gone, the four of them all ran up the stairs, through a few shortcuts and straight onto the seventh floor. Like Dexter said, all the Gryffindors were indeed standing there, all peering over each other's heads, wondering what was taking so long to get into the common room. Once they heard their approaching footsteps, they turned to see him coming towards them just as he heard the voice of Percy Weasley call out, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick!"

Everyone fell silent as they all parted to let them passed; his heart pounding so hard in his chest that it hurt. He heard young voice call out, "What's going on?" when he finally arrived at the portrait hole; but he barely paid any attention to anything but the destroyed painting. The Fat Lady's portrait's had been slashed with what had to been with a knife, strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely. He ran his fingers over one of the deeper slashes…

'_It's almost like… claw marks?' _he thought briefly before he turned, his good mood long gone, to see his other three teachers wading their way through the sea of scared students.

"We need to find her," he informed them quickly when they saw the worried looks on their faces. He looked immediately at Minerva and said, "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" cried out cackling voice above them. He looked up right away to see Peeves bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, whenever something bad was happening. Biting his lower lip for a second and asked as calmly as he could, while at the same time had dread and fear filling him, "What do you mean, Peeves?"

Peeve's smiled faded slightly and then said with his wicked grin, "Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing," he said and that told Albus how serious this was.

"Did she say who did it?" he asked quietly, fearing the worse, praying he was wrong.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," he said cheerfully. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." He then flipped over in midair and grinned at him from between his legs as he finished by saying, "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

Albus felt as if his heart had turned to ice. He then addressed the students who were all still standing there, each one with panic-stricken and terrified looks—as if they were about to start screaming. But he quickly waved them all back down to the Great Hall and ordered the other teachers to go and get everyone else before anything more happened. The Gryffindors were all gathered at their table, all talking quickly about what was happening while Albus looked at the door every few seconds, terrified that someone had been attacked as well.

He let out sighs of relief when the heads of Houses all showed up one by one, each telling him that everyone was accounted for and safe. He felt as though a huge weight was lifted off him once the last child had walked in, looking tired and confused, but thankfully unharmed.

Once everyone had gathered together he waved down the questions and explanations as he called out, "The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle." He looked up at the doors into the Hall again just as waving Minerva and Filius closed them and nodding in approval. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge." He then turned to Percy, who was looking excited at being left in charge and added to him, "Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately. Send word with one of the ghosts."

Percy nodded quickly and immediately began looking around the hall at all the students as if he had just been told that he was the new Headmaster.

Albus suddenly remembered that sleeping on the floor sure wasn't going to be comfortable for them and so he said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"

He levitated the four tables out of the way, and conjured hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," he said as the doors closed behind him. Once he was out, he turned to his teachers who each had their wand out and were looking ready for anything. "We must search the entire castle," he told them all. "Don't leave a single room or corridor overlooked. But I also want a few of you to check in here every once in awhile. Remember, the student's safety is our number one priority."

They all nodded and quickly broke into groups of twos and began to search. Albus then looked up at the Grand Staircase, to where Dexter and Everard were watching from a painting of a grassy hillside and went straight up to them.

"Dexter? Everard? You both go and try to find the Fat Lady. Start with the fourth floor and search every picture you can until she's found. Come and find me as soon as you find her or if you see any signs of Sirius Black."

Both gave him a salute and left without questions, Albus watched them until they walked through the portraits next to them as he pulled out his own wand and began searching the castle for Sirius Black.

_*Hours later*_

At some unearthly hour in the morning, Albus, completely exhausted but still alert, decided to go and check on the students once his search had turned up nothing. He entered the Great Hall, and looked around for Percy who was prowling between the sleeping bags a short ways away. Albus gestured him over once he looked up.

"Any sign of him, Professor?" whispered Percy once he drew near.

"No," Albus answered tiredly. "All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

Albus nodded in satisfaction as he looked around at them all fondly. "Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Lady, sir?" Percy asked worriedly.

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor," Albus informed him. He, himself, had been searching the seventh floor when he heard Everard shout from across the corridor that he found her. He went down to find her crying, and slashed up—completely distraught. It took some time for him to calm her down enough for her to tell him what happened. Once he got the story from her, he told her to take refuge in one of the portraits in his office—preferably in Phineas's portrait—until he sorted everything out. "Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."

Suddenly, the doors opened again. He looked up to see a tired-looking, and irritable Severus comes in. Albus turned to him, hoping for good news. "Headmaster?" Severus asked quietly. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."

Albus frowned. He then asked, wanting to make sure that every single room in the castle had been searched. "What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"

"All searched…" Severus answered.

"Very well, Severus," Albus sighed. He had a feeling that this was the case, but that didn't stop the disappointment that he was still loose, and the relief that Black was no where inside the castle. "I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" Severus suddenly said with a little hiss in his tone.

Albus eyed him wearily, having a pretty good idea where he was going with this. "Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."

Severus's eyes narrowed in anger. "You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before — ah — the start of term?" He was trying hard not to say too much with Percy here, and Albus didn't know how many students were still awake and probably listening in.

"I do, Severus," Albus said, remembering the conversation about Remus all-too-well, and was not in the mood to hear Severus accuse him again.

"It seems — almost impossible — that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed —"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," Albus said firmly. "I must go down to the Dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

Percy suddenly spoke up, "Didn't they want to help, sir?"

"Oh yes," Albus answered him, almost angry. Cold rage filling him at the thought of having those monsters inside Hogwarts, where it's supposed to be a place of safety, and have them exposed to the students. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster."

Percy looked startled at his tone, and Albus felt some of his anger fade at the look on Percy's face. But he didn't have time to dwell on it as he quickly and quietly, trying hard not to wake anyone, walked out of the hall.

The sun had already risen before he was able to return to his office… and was greeted by a furious Phineas.

_*A few days later*_

Things hadn't quieted down over the next few days; not that he expected them too. He had indeed found a new protector for the Gryffindor common room, but to be honest, he wasn't so sure of his reliability. But then again, Sir Cadogan was the only one who would take the job… so he didn't have much choice. But he now had other worries to add to his ever growing load.

His fears of Harry being targeted by Sirius Black had just been confirmed. He had been hoping, praying that Black coming after Harry was nothing more than a rumor at most. But why else would Black be trying to get into Gryffindor Tower if not because of Harry? He asked the teachers to all keep a closer eye on him just in case… but at the same time, he also knew that this was causing problems for the boy. He felt bad, but Harry's safety was far more important.

He was waiting for Armando to come back and inform him on Harry and was glad when he finally appeared. Albus looked up at him and waited for a report. "That Black fellow sure has McGonagall scared," Armando explained. "She just told Harry about Black being after him and that she doesn't want him to be practicing Quidditch in the evenings."

Now Albus was already aware that Harry knew about Black, but what Armando said about Minerva wanting to cancel their Quidditch practice surprised him. He was grateful for Minerva ready to take such measures… though he knew just how painful it must've been for her to come to that decision.

"Why do I have the feeling that Harry didn't take that to well?" he asked him.

"Well, he was able to convince her not to make them cancel," Armando confessed, "But she insisted on having Hooch out there to keep an eye on them."

Albus folded his hands together and bobbed his head consent. "Yes, that should do well for the time being." He looked out the window at the pounding rain beating against the glass. "Though I can't say I'm optimistic about the weather conditions for this first match."

He sighed; remembering the last few Quidditch matches and coming to a silent decision. If the weather does become too intense, he would be sure to call the match off. Hopefully, the game would end quickly without anything happening…

And so, over the next few days, things were pretty uneventful. Which he was very grateful for. At least until Everard told him of Severus's treatment of the third-year Gryffindors in Defense Against the Dark Arts one day when Albus was writing—what felt like his hundredth letter to the Ministry about Black—and told him of what Severus decided to teach them all.

"You heard me," Everard said in disgust. "He teaching them how to recognize and kill Werewolves. He's obvious what he's doing! He's trying to get them all to connect the dots."

Albus frowned, his tolerance for his Potions Master growing thin. He was going to ensure that they had a long talk about this. But he was also worried about anyone else finding out about Remus's condition. He was sure that some of the more observant ones like Miss Granger would surely figure out the truth in no time. He could only hope that they wouldn't care what Remus was and keep quiet. If word got out… Remus would decide to leave…

"And that's not all," Everard said frigidly, interrupting his train of thought. "The way that Snape treats them… he practically reduced Miss Granger to tears. He resorts to name-calling and yelling at them? Did you know that he sounded like a little kid with all those insults?"

"A sign of a real teacher!" Phineas called approvingly.

"A sign of immaturity!" Everard snapped back.

"What did he say?" Albus interrupted.

"Well," Everard went on grumpily, "When he asked a question, Granger raised her hand to answer it like always. But he ignored her and started insulting them all when no one else said anything. He went on about something about how slow and behind they all were."

"Well, they have much to catch up on," Albus said frowning even further.

"And when Granger started talking about Werewolves, he took points away and called her an insufferable know-it-all," Everard finished.

Albus felt his hand clench. His anger growing at the thought of any of his pupils being treated like they weren't worth anything. But just before he could call Severus to his office, Everard continued by saying, "Despite the fact that he's angry at her, and calls her a know-it-all all the time, Weasley stood up for Miss Granger."

"Ohhh! What did he say?" Dilys couldn't help but ask.

Everard laughed and answered, "He said, and I quote: _'You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?'_"

Almost everyone else laughed, Phineas looked ill-tempered, and the corner of Albus's mouth twitched. "And let me guess…"

"Detention," Everard said simply. "Snape can dish it out, but he sure can't take it can he?"

"I'm afraid that it's a forced habit for him," Albus said sadly, his voice just dribbling with disappointment.

"Well," Everard groaned, "I think that he needs to study up on the Kappa when he's got the free time. He said that they're found in Mongolia, not Japan."

"I think it was more about insulting them," Albus answered grimly, making a mental note to talk to Severus about all this before the next time he was allowed to substitute for another class.

"He just keeps making everyone hate him even more," Everard informed him. "Weasley sure came up with several ah, _'choice' _words about Snape. I don't think I can repeat what he said, but the point is, no one is very happy with him. You really need to teach him the golden rule."

"I'm afraid that's easier said than done," Albus admitted, but he would have a few_ 'choice' _words of his own when he did have that talk with Severus.

_*A couple weeks later*_

Over the next few weeks, Albus had devoted all his time and effort into dealing with the constant bombard of questions from the Ministry, and tightening security. In fact, he had been so busy with everything else, he wasn't even aware that the Slytherin team had pulled a trick on the Gryffindors and switched with Hufflepuff until it was too late to do anything about it.

Albus would wait until tomorrow to get the full story, but for now… he glanced at the heavy downpour hitting the windowpane. He performed a quick, water-reflecting charm on his clothes before he headed down to the pitch, ready to call it off at any moment.

And just like he thought, by the time he arrived at the field—the weather was horrid. Everyone had large umbrellas as the rain poured down on them in a cascade. He was just outside the Quidditch pitch and could hear, even over the gale, the Slytherins laughing and pointing at both teams from their seats… obviously enjoying the fact that they weren't playing in these conditions.

But the storm continued to get worse with every second. The rain coming down harder and faster, the wind getting stronger, and lightening starting to flash. The wind was so great that Albus could see the players in the air getting blown off course… which only made it even more difficult to keep his eyes on them all—Harry especially.

But he was getting worried, if the Snitch wasn't caught in the next 60 seconds he would call everything off. But if things went on too much longer he would have to…

Albus stopped thinking right there. He knew right away something was wrong as ice flooded through him… the sounds of his brother's voice suddenly filling his ears:

_"Well? Say something! Don't just stand there like you think that you're better than everyone else! For once in your life, Albus look at me and say something useful!" Aberforth was screaming at Albus. "Why don't you just pack your trophies and leave? That's what you want isn't it? You can't stand being stuck here and taking care of your __**worthless**__ brother and __**damaged**__ sister can you? Look, I don't give a damn about school anymore! I'll take care of Ariana! Just get out of here and take him with you!"_

_He pointed a shaking hand at Gellert who was still lurking in the doorway and watched the two brothers argue. _

"_You're not quitting school!" Albus argued back loudly. "You need to finish your education! I told you that I'll take care of her until…"_

"_Until what?" Aberforth demanded. "You never wanted to deal with her even before Mum died! You can't stand the sight of us can you?"_

"_That's not true!" Albus shouted back. At least, not completely true. Albus loved them both dearly, they were the only family he had left. But…_

_"And you!" Aberforth roared, storming over to Gellert glared back fiercely. "You selfish, loathsome, evil little cockroach! You get kicked out of Drumstrang for Dark Magic didn't you? That school is KNOWN for teaching the Dark Arts! I don't know what you did, but don't think you've got me convinced for a second that you turned over a new leaf!" He turned back to Albus and screamed, "You better give it up now. You can't move her, she's in no fit state, you can't take her with you, wherever it is you're planning to go, while you were busy making your clever speeches, you forgot that Ariana is too weak to be moved anywhere! What you two are planning is nothing but evil and you know it!"_

_Albus refused to admit the truth of his brother's words. He tried desperately to explain once again… but Aberforth was on a roll._

_"Look, Albus," Aberforth continued. "I know that you finally found someone of your level, an __equal__! There's actually someone out there worthy of your presence! Not like your worthless siblings that you wish would just disappear!"_

_"Enough!" both of them turned to Gellert after his sudden outburst. His eyes flashing angrily and his lips curled into a cruel snarl. He immediately pulled out his wand and pointed it at Aberforth's chest as if he was fighting the urge to curse him and stared menacingly._

"_Gellert!" Albus called to him in shock._

_"Don't you dare think that you can tell us what to do! Not when you don't understand what we're going to do! Don't you see that if we succeed, Ariana won't be forced to be hidden in this house any longer? Why should you, a drop-out schoolboy, be able to tell me what's right and wrong?" _

_"Oh, what are you going to do about it?" Aberforth snarled back, ready for a fight. But before he could even pull out his wand, Gellert screamed out "Crucio!"_

Aberforth's screams filled his head and Albus was drowning in cold sorrow… only vaguely aware of what was happening. Fighting the memories, he started running onto the field. He reached it just as the Dementors started swarming, feasting on the enthusiasm the crowd was giving off. Their screams of excitement had turned to ones of horror and fear. That was when it happened.

He looked up at the players… and he felt his insides freeze as pure terror crashed through him when he saw that Harry had suddenly stopped flying… he had frozen in midair… and then slowly slipped off his broom and was falling to earth.

Fighting to keep his mind clear, though nearly impossible now that he heard Ariana screaming in his ears, he used the Impediment Curse to help slow Harry down right before he hit the ground. And then he thought of a memory, he thought of a time before Ariana had been attacked and his family was still together, before he was able to summon his phoenix Patronus and forced the Dementors to leave.

Once they had fled, the screaming stopped and he turned to see that Harry was lying in the mud just a few yards away. Feeling another wave of panic rush over him, he ran over to the boy. And for one—heart-stopping moment—he was sure that he was dead. He reached over and checked Harry's wrist to find the faint beating of a pulse just as Harry let out a small groan of pain. Feeling warm and welcoming relief that he was alive; he conjured up a stretcher and levitated him straight up to the Hospital Wing—mentally cursing the Dementors all the way.

But once they were just a floor beneath the hospital… something happened…

"Stop…" Harry croaked from the stretcher, and for a moment, Albus thought that Harry had woken up and was talking to him. But when he did and looked down at him, he realized that Harry was talking to a dream. "Please… stop… stop the screaming…"

Albus stared at his tortured, sleeping face when he spoke those words—his heart aching for the boy next to him. Now having a good guess to what Harry was forced to hear. And he understood too-well what it was like to be forced to hear the ones we love scream their final moments… Ariana's cry was still ringing in his ears…

He was glad that his beard and face were soaked by the time that he arrived with Harry at the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey didn't notice the single tear that had fallen from his eye and slid down his cheek.

**(I know that I've been asked to update a lot sooner. I'm sorry, but this chapter has been difficult. And I've also been working on finals… but nevertheless, I hope that no one was disappointed with this chapter, and are there any suggestions to what should happen in the next one?)**


	29. Innocent Wanderings

**Chapter 29: Innocent Wanderings**

Albus was informed that Harry was to remain in the Hospital wing for the weekend. He was surprised to hear that Harry hadn't complained about it once—he knew that the hospital wing wasn't the boy's favorite place—but he had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with avoiding the rest of the school for as long as possible. His heart went out to him… but he also knew that Harry was most likely beating himself up over losing the game… it would be for the best if Harry was left alone for while.

However, he wasn't at all surprised to hear that Harry refused point-blank to throw out the remains of his broom.

"It's just a few shards of splinters!" Dilys told him the next morning. "I don't see why he's so bothered with keeping them!"

"It's hard to let go of something that we once cared about," Albus told her—though it was more to himself than to her. While Albus was lost in his thoughts, he was vaguely aware that Phineas was saying something—not that he was listening. They mostly ignored the former Slytherin Headmaster anymore.

Since Dilys was the only one who had a portrait in the hospital wing, he had her keep a close eye on Harry during his time there. She told Albus about his visitors—though he noticed with a bit of concern how the Gryffindor captain seemed to be taking this defeat. Perhaps it would be good to remind him that much more could've been lost that night instead of a game. As for Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, they were never apart from Harry's bedside except when Poppy was forced to practically throw them out. Nothing was out of the ordinary…

Although something that Dilys said disturbed him…

It was just the next night that he found out that Harry was having nightmares. Dilys informed him that Harry talked about the Grim in his dreams… that couldn't be a good sign…

Maybe he should have a word with Sybill on how paranoid she was making the students. But he froze when Dilys told him that Harry was also having nightmares of the Dementors and called out for his mother in his sleep.

"You mean to tell me that he still cries for his mommy?" Phineas sneered when he heard that. But he stopped immediately at the cold look Albus gave him. Albus glared darkly at him—daring him to say one more word—luckily Phineas took the hint and shut up instantly. Albus bit his lower lip, and leaned forward onto his hands again… the likenesses he had with Harry were starting to worry him. For like Harry, he understood all too well the pain of being alone in the world. Though there was one large difference…

Albus thought about his younger sister and mother. He had betrayed them in one of the worse possible ways imaginable. He was just going to leave them to deal with their own problems in silence as he pursued his own dreams. But that's all they ever were: dreams… foolish fantasies. Even though he was young, he should've known that.

But by the time he did… it was too late. That thought caused a wave of emotions to crash the old man back into the present. He couldn't bring himself to care anymore. Dreams and desires seemed so insignificant when you already lost everything—everyone—that was important to you.

He folded his hand together and thought about what Dilys said. Apparently, Harry would toss and turn all night before he would wake up in a cold sweat and lay there awake until the sun rose. But if Harry didn't come to him about this, there wasn't much he could do. He could only hope that spending time with his friends would help.

But it seems that the rest of the school wasn't giving him an easy time either. He had seen Draco Malfoy during mealtimes… who had finally taken off his bandages and was doing unkind imitations of what happened during the last match. But it was somewhat amusing when he heard how Mr. Weasley had flung a crocodile heart at young Draco during their Potion's class. He wasn't at all staggered when he heard of Severus's over-reacted.

"I think that you shouldn't allow Severus to substitute anymore," Dexter told him late the following Monday. "That whole third year class was talking about skipping Defense Against the Dark Arts today if he was there again."

"Lazy, spoiled brats," Phineas grunted. "They should just suck it up and deal with it! You know, I always hated those little monsters and how they…"

"Then you really picked the wrong profession!" Dilys shouted at him.

Albus shook his head again. He was certainly glad that Remus was back at work—and even more pleased when Dexter went into grand detail about his Hinkypunk lesson. Once he was finished, Dexter said something that brought a smile back to his face. Remus had talked to Harry after the class was over.

"He wanted to know if Harry was alright," Dexter told him idly. "He seemed really worried about him."

"I can imagine," Albus said sitting up a little straighter and wanting to hear more. "What did they talk about?"

"Not much at first," he told him with a shrug. "He asked about what happened to Harry's broom and the willow. Oh, yeah… Lupin told him that the tree was planted the year he came… though he didn't mention _why_ it was planted there in the first place. Davey Gudgeon was mentioned actually…"

"Ah, yes, I remember Davey Gudgeon," Albus nodded, his eyes twinkling. "He was very lucky that he ducked when he did. Otherwise he would've had his eye ripped clean out."

"Pffft," Phineas snorted. "That werewolf is a coward in my opinion. He's too scared to come out with the truth."

"Phineas," Albus warned. "Whether or not Remus chooses to tell others of his past is completely up to him. While I do wish that he could tell Harry what he was to his parents, I am confident that he will find out when he is ready to tell him."

"Well," Phineas told him. "He's certainly taking his sweet time."

"They also talked about the Dementors and how angry you were when you went running out onto the field," Dexter went on, drawing everyone's attention back onto himself.

"That doesn't surprise me," Albus said calmly. "I've heard many of the students talk about it." It was true, after he had taken Harry up to the Hospital wing; he turned his fury back onto the Dementors. He had called Cornelius Fudge out and spoke to him about this. He had demanded that the Ministry remove the Dementors at once.

However, that had become nothing more than a waste of breath. Cornelius had refused to listen and continued to make sure that the Dementors remained. Albus sighed as he leaned back in his chair. He overheard the students talking about how terrifying he acted once he banished the Dementors… He hated getting angry in front of children—but the idea of those horrible creatures showing up in the middle of a match and caused a panic—was terrible for him to imagine.

He was going to make double sure that they never came onto the grounds again.

"But this might interest you," Dexter's voice called to him. "Harry must trust Lupin because he came right out and told him about what he hears when those things get to close to him… he heard his mother's voice screaming… you know—what happened that… that Halloween night."

Not a single word was spoken… Not even Phineas seemed to be able to find anything to say to that. Albus's eyes softened as he bowed his head low. When he heard Harry say those words—_stop the screaming_—he had already guessed that this was it. But it was still difficult to hear it confirmed. He understood better than anyone how painful it must've been for Harry to finally discover what his worst memory was. But it must be even worse for him… this was the first time he heard his own mother's voice since he was a baby. And Albus was sure that he must be suffering right now.

"I see," Albus told him simply. "How does he… how does he seem to be taking this?"

"How else? He's obviously really upset and hurt when he talked about it," Dexter continued sadly. "I think that it would be just as bad for Lupin to know."

"Yes," Albus agreed. "Remus has been trying so hard to move on… but it couldn't have been easy for him."

"Oh, yeah," Dexter added. "They also talked about Sirius Black… that also must've been painful for Lupin to talk about the traitor. But on a brighter note, Lupin made him feel better by telling him why the Dementors affect him so badly."

Albus nodded, glad that Remus was here more than ever. He was always very gifted with telling others the exact words of comfort they need to be told.

"I am glad that you told me this," Albus spoke to Dexter with a slight nod of his head. "Anything else you want to tell me? If not, then you are free to take the rest of the day off."

"Just one last thing!" Dexter said with a small smack to his own head. "I almost forgot to mention it! After Lupin talked about how there were ways to fight the Dementors, Harry asked him if he will give him anti-Dementor lessons."

Albus blinked in surprise and chuckled to himself. "I should've known he ask something like that. Did Remus agree?" he asked eagerly.

"It took a little persuading," Dexter confessed. "But Lupin agreed easier than I thought he would. But he said that they have to wait until next term—you know—because of his 'condition?'"

Albus nodded in contentment. "Alright, well… at least we know we have one interesting thing to look forward too."

_*A few days later*_

"He just disappeared, Dumbledore!" Everard came running into his portrait as Albus finished some tedious paperwork. Albus looked up to see Everard panting heavily and leaning against his frame trying to catch his breath.

"Who just disappeared?" Albus asked lightly.

"Who do you think I mean?" he snapped back. "I was watching Potter like you said and he just vanished!"

"Just calm down, Everard," Albus said, though his own worries and fears were starting to rise at those words. "I'm sure that he'll turn up… where did you last see him?"

"On the third floor," Everard explained. "He was heading upstairs when he was stopped by the Weasley twins. They asked him to follow them and I haven't seen them since!"

Albus's anxiety was still high, but he relaxed a little at those words. The Weasley twins? If he was with the twins then he knew that Harry wasn't in any trouble… well, not life-threatening trouble at least. Perhaps they asked him for his help for some prank or something they're planning. If that was all, then he was sure that he could let it slid.

"Now, Everard," Albus said waving a calming hand. "If he's with the Weasleys, then I'm sure that it's nothing too serious. Maybe they just wanted his help with…"

"Oh, I wouldn't put it past him," Phineas said snidely. "Those two demons have been in here more times than the rest of the student body! And it wouldn't surprise me at all if they had been planning on sneaking into Hogsmeade. How do we know that they aren't there now? Ever think of that?" He then looked at the other portraits and called out, "Who wants to take a bet? Anyone want to see if Potter snuck into the village? That would explain why he just vanished!"

"That would be incredibly risky, even for Harry," Albus reminded him. "Any secret passageways that lead to Hogsmeade are all kept under close watch, and I know that Harry would never want to try to sneak pass the Dementors. And even if he had some way of sneaking into the village, let me remind you that all the teachers are visiting there as well today." He trailed off after that as his depressing thoughts once again began to take hold. He couldn't help but think of how hard it must've been for a teenage boy like Harry. He should be allowed to have some fun like any other child. Instead, he was being watched 24/7 and was now forced to stay in the castle—he's not even allowed to go out onto the grounds without someone constantly watching him or there with him.

He shook his head. "Just keep an eye out for him. I'm worried, yes, but something tells me that he's not in any danger at the moment. Just let me know when he does show up."

_*That Night*_

Albus had just returned from the feast, wondering what was going on. He was greatly relieved when he saw that Harry was safe and sound at dinner, but he couldn't help but notice that the boy hardly ate anything. He had been looking pale and a little sickly… like he was coming down with the flu. He kept a close eye on him all throughout dinner… but when the desserts appeared, Harry just pushed his hardly eaten plate away from him and left the Great Hall—still looking like he was about to be sick.

Albus was just getting ready for bed himself when Everard appeared. "He showed up about an hour before dinner," he explained as Albus looked up at him. "He seemed depressed for some reason. And from what I saw, he just went up his dorm and hasn't come down. He seemed really upset."

"I noticed," Albus said softly. "He didn't seem like himself at all during dinner… do you know what's wrong with him?"

"If I knew I tell you," Everard said annoyed. "All I know is that he doesn't look so good."

"If you ask me," Phineas chimed in. "He's just being dramatic like every single student here!"

"Oh, do us all a favor, Phineas," Dilys yawned widely. "And shut up! No one likes hearing you complain."

"Well, just keep an eye on him tomorrow and let me know," Albus told the majority of his portraits as Phineas's face grew red and looked ready to start shouting. He went to bed feeling more heavy-hearted than he had been for awhile… but he did finally learned what was bothering Harry the next day.

"He knows," Everard said in a faraway voice during a late snowy afternoon when Albus had been working on yet another letter to the Ministry. "I don't know how… but he knows that Black betrayed his parents."

Albus felt his heart freeze and he actually dropped his quill, smudging the letter. "How do you know that?" he demanded softly.

"I was keeping an eye on him like you said!" he retorted. "He didn't come down from his dorm until a little while ago! And let me tell you that he looked terrible. He was all pale and sickly looking like he was just getting over a bad illness. Anyway, I heard him talking to Ron and Hermione… and from what I gathered, he overheard some of the teachers talking about Black's connections to his family."

Albus didn't have a clue how to react to this. He had always known that Harry would find out about Sirius Black's link to him sooner or later… but like this… he folded his hands together and leaned forward to press his forehead into them. "So he knows…" he said to himself softly, not knowing what to do.

"Yes," Everard said grimly. "And he's not very happy about it. His friends were worried about him. They thought that he was going to do something stupid like trying to go after Black for revenge or something like that. They were trying to talk him out of it."

That was another thing that Albus could understand. The feeling of being hurt and betrayed… wanting to punish someone for their crimes. Only in his case, it was himself that he wanted to punish. Albus knew he would never be forgiven for any of his misdeeds to his family. So, he made sure he never forgot. It served as a sort of self-punishment for all these years. He visited the graveyard every year… on days like Ariana's and his mother's birthdays—as well as the separate days they died. He went whenever he felt that he was gaining to much control… whenever he was starting to feel confident… he went there to remind him never be given power. Even after all these years he was still punishing himself for the sins of his past.

But these were feelings that he never wanted Harry to know—feelings of hatred and rage. "What does Harry wish to do?" he asked, hoping for good news.

"Hard to say…" Everard said honestly. "He wants Black to pay for what he did… but he doesn't seem to know what he wants to do about it. His friends tried talking some sense into him, but I'm not sure he heard any of it. Weasley asked him if he wanted to kill Black and…"

"And?"

"Harry never answered. He never said that he wanted to kill Black… but it's obvious that he hates him. He was talking about blaming Black for never being able to know his parents," he answered. He sighed as he finished by saying, "More than anything… I think Harry's just upset that no one told him before now."

Albus looked down sadly. The reason he never told Harry—and he knew why no one else didn't was for the same reason—was because he couldn't bear to see the look of devastation in his face. He sighed—really, all he wanted was to protect the boy from more pain than was necessary, and he wondered how he hadn't seen before now that they just made it even harder. He did not want to tell Harry about the prophecy but if it had to be done… would he have the strength to go through with it?

"Where are they now?" he asked. "Are they still in the common room or…?"

"Went down to talk to Hagrid… I think Harry was going to demand to know why he never told him about Black."

Albus felt a terrible sadness at those words. "Let me know when they get back."

_*A couple hours later*_

"I don't think you need to worry," Everard said after Albus had returned from another dull meeting with Fudge. Just the usual… arguing about the Dementors and how Sirius Black remains on the run. Albus had just sat down, hoping for something to cheer him up from such a depressing day when Everard had appeared. "Harry let the matter of Black drop for now."

"Why?" Albus said looking up in revelation. He couldn't believe that Harry would forget about that so easily… no one could do that… "What caused the change?"

"Hagrid was all broken up about that trial for the hippogriff, Buckbeak," he answered. "He seems really scared at what the committee was going to do to him. He wants to just let Buckbeak go, but he doesn't want to risk getting in trouble and going back to Azkaban… at least that's what I overheard the trio say on their way to the library to do some research to help him. They're back in the common room looking for anything that could help."

Albus let out a sigh of relief; glad that Harry was able to channel his rage somewhere else for the time being. "I am relieved to hear that."

"Teenagers…" Armando shuddered. "No matter how many years pass, I don't think that there is anything scarier or more difficult to deal with then when kids are going through their teenage years."

Albus shut his eyes with a small, but sad smile, on his face. "No… I can't argue with that."

_*Christmas*_

Things had quieted down considerably by the time that Christmas came. Though there were less than 7 students left this year, the decorations were as perfect as they were every year. His favorite streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, fairy lights were secretly slipped into the suits of armor while Hagrid had gathered the traditional twelve Christmas trees, that Filius had expertly decorated himself.

With such few people this year, Albus decided that it would be ridiculous to have the House tables. And so, during lunch on Christmas day, he had moved all the House tables against the wall, and conquered a single table, set for just the twelve of them, in the middle of the room. Albus was the first one to sit down, soon followed by Minerva, Severus, Pomona, Filius and Argus who had all decided to stay for the holidays this year. There were shortly joined by two small first years, Derek—a Gryffindor, and Ariel—a Hufflepuff. About 5 minutes later and a fifth year with a sullen face called Vince showed up and seemed to be bored out of his mind as he took his seat nearest to Severus.

Just as the delicious food the House-Elves below them prepared, the Golden Trio came in through the doors. Albus was pleased to see the three of them looking more cheerful than he had seen them all year.

"Merry Christmas!" he called happily as they drew near the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables… Sit down, sit down!"

Naturally, the three of them sat together near the end of the table just as he reached for a cracker. "Crackers!" he called enthusiastically, offering the end of one of the several dozen Wizard Crackers that were lying on the table. Severus—who was looking irritable—tugged it and Albus knew that he was only doing this to humor him. Looking eagerly to see what was inside… it was a pointed witch's hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

Albus felt as though his ribs were breaking as he had to fight back a laugh as he remembered hearing about Mr. Longbottom's Boggart. Severus on the other hand didn't find it nearly as funny and just pushed it to him—with an air of disgust. Albus smiled brightly at him and put it on. He beamed at them all and said, "Dig in!"

A few minutes later as he was enjoying some more turkey, to his great surprise/delight, Sybill entered the hall—dressed in her favorite green sequined dress—once again looking like a dragonfly.

"Sybill, this is a pleasant surprise!" he called happily as he stood up to greet her.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," Sybill spoke in her favorite misty and distant voice when she wished to be mysterious. "And to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness…"

Albus just decided to humor her. "Certainly, certainly. Let me draw you up a chair —"

He pulled out his wand and conquered up a chair for her—and he was about to place it right between Pomona and Filius when he saw Minerva out of the corner of his eye. Having a feeling that he might regret this—he set it right between Severus and Minerva at the last second. Minerva gave him a dark look just as Sybill let out a soft scream.

"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"We'll risk it, Sybil," said Minerva impatiently and she shot him another annoyed look. Albus meanwhile was pretending to be interested in his mash potatoes as he heard her say. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."

He didn't look up until he heard Sybill ask, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," Albus said lightly, reaching for more gravy. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."

"But surely you already knew that, Sybill?" Minerva asked, her eyebrows raised and Sybill replied with her coldest look.

"Certainly I knew, Minerva," she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."

"That explains a great deal," Minerva said quietly, but not quietly enough.

"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him —" she answered roughly. Albus smiled to himself—knowing full well that after that first class with the Boggarts, Remus had been working hard to convince everyone else that it was a crystal ball he feared the most—not the moon.

"Imagine that," Minerva replied dryly.

"I doubt that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?" Albus called to both quarreling women cheerfully—but loudly so that they would remember where they were and not let slip anything.

"Yes, Headmaster," said Severus a little regretfully—indicating that he was sorry for doing so.

"Good," Albus nodded to him. "Then he should be up and about in no time… Derek, have you had any of the chipolatas? They're excellent."

The little boy blushed red at his name and when he was passed the platter of sausages it rattled in his shaking hands. The rest of the feast didn't end until about 2 hours later when Harry and Ron Weasley both stood up, getting ready to leave, and Sybill reacted instantly as if she had been waiting for this.

"My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?" she screamed, pointing a shaking finger to each one separately.

"Dunno," said Ron, looking uneasily at Harry—who was looking calm—as if Sybill predicting his death happened every day. Which for him—that wasn't a bad guess.

Minerva suddenly spoke up in a cold voice, "I doubt it will make much difference. Unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."

The boys snorted as Sybill was now having a heated argument with Minerva. Albus was about to say something to them when Hermione Granger got up from her seat and whispered something into Minerva's ear. Albus watched them out of the corner of his eye until his Transfiguration teacher turned to her, temporary forgetting about Sybill and asked, "Are you sure?"

When Hermione nodded, Minerva suddenly got back to her feet and left the room with Hermione. Even though he was wondering what was going on—Albus didn't get a chance to find out what this was about until he spotted Minerva coming down the corridor. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at what she was carrying.

"A Firebolt?" he asked as he stared at the beautiful broom that was in her hands. "That's an expensive model you have there, Minerva. Did you buy it for yourself?"

"Potter received it this morning for a gift," Minerva explained to him hurriedly. "No note, no card, not even a signature… nothing at all… Miss Granger came to me and informed me that this might've come from Sirius Black."

Albus blinked at that. He looked from the broom up to Minerva and said seriously, "I understand. Do what you need to. Though it seems a bit… er… unlikely that Sirius Black would do this… though not impossible," he added.

"He always was unpredictable," Minerva reminded him. "You should remember that as well as I do."

Albus nodded and let her walk passed, wondering just how unpredictable Sirius Black was after twelve years.

_*After New Year*_

Albus kept small tabs on Harry thanks to his portraits eavesdropping skills for the rest of the holidays. The good news was that nothing seemed to have happened… except for the fact that the boys now refused to talk to Hermione for getting the Firebolt confiscated, which sadden him. With all the work she was doing, and now her two best friends refusing to speak to her, he understood that this must've been very difficult for her. He could only hope that they would make up soon. He was also taken aback to hear how Wood reacted to the news of the broom.

"He was willing to kick Harry off the team," Armando told him the day after term re-started. "Didn't want a repeat of what happened last time. But he seemed to me that he was showing more concern about losing another game then the chance that the boy could fall to his death."

"Obsessive," Phineas grunted. Albus smiled a little half-heartedly, it was one of those rare occasions that he had to agree with Phineas.

"I don't think we need to worry about any Dementors showing up again," he spoke to them. "I intend to make sure of it. And I also intend to be there again just to make sure. I don't want a repeat of what happened."

"In other words, you don't want your precious 'Golden Boy' put at risk again," Phineas stated complainingly.

"In other words," Albus told him, "I don't want to risk _any_ of the students getting hurt or put even near any potential danger."

"Sure got excited about the broom though," Armando nodded—apparently not listening to their conversation. "Doesn't even seem to care that it might've come from Black and that it could kill Harry if he tries to fly it." He grinned and said, "In fact, when he heard that Minerva confiscated it and was going to_ 'strip it down' _he went off to try and _'make her see reason'_."

That set off them all. They all burst out laughing—knowing full well how well who was going to win that fight. "I don't think she'll like hearing that!" Dilys giggled.

"Oh, I wish I could see the look on their faces…" Everard snorted. "In fact, I think I'll go down to her office and see if I can see anything." And he then walked right out of his portrait leaving everyone else to finishing their laughing and calm down enough to talk about what to do.

"I think that Minerva cares more for her students than a game," Albus stated, wiping a tear of laugher from his eye. "Thank you for telling us that Everard. I think we could all have used the laugh."

"One more thing," Armando said, "Before I forget. I did hear from Lupin that they should have their first Dementor fighting lesson at eight on Thursday in the History of Magic classroom."

"AH, excellent!" Albus said grinning broadly. "I have been looking forward to seeing how well Harry performs here."

"I wouldn't want to get my hopes up too much, Dumbledore," Phineas called down. "You may have high expectations from that boy, but I personally don't see anything remarkable about that child."

"You should never underestimate students, Phineas," Albus told him patiently. "I am confident that Harry will be able to master the spell. I'm not saying right off the bat—I would be dumbfounded if he did—but I have no doubts that he will do well."

"Also, I thought that you might be interested to learn that Granger has Lupin figured out," Armando finished up and shifted comfortably in his chair.

"Truly?" Albus demanded, his laughter fading slightly. "What makes you so sure?"

"Well, I overheard Weasley wonder why Lupin's sick all the time and Granger said, 'isn't it obvious?' Not that she told him anything else. If she has figured out Lupin's condition then she hasn't told anyone."

"I had a feeling she do that," he said thoughtfully. "She has a good heart, and must respect Remus. And I know that she certainly doesn't want to see him fired."

"I doubt she knows the truth," Phineas said annoyed—determined to complain about something.

"I wouldn't bet on that, Phineas," Albus told him brightly.

The rest of the week had passed quickly, and before anyone knew it, it was already Thursday—and this time, Albus asked Dilys go and watch the private lesson. Later that evening, he was pleased at what she had to report.

"Remus brought a Boggart to practice with. They were using that to become the Dementor," she said. "For some reason, Remus had a feeling that you wouldn't be happy about having a real one in the castle."

"I wonder why?" Dexter asked sarcastically.

"Good," Albus nodded approvingly.

"Also…" Dilys said softly before she fell silent.

Albus raised his head. "Also what?" he asked gently, not liking her tone.

"He heard his father," she said mournfully. "Harry said that he heard his father screaming this time."

Silence filled the room… and it remained that way for several minutes until Albus found his voice again. "He heard James?" Albus repeated quietly.

She looked sad as she settled back into her seat and seemed to be playing with her wand. "He said that was the first time he ever heard him… that James tried to give Lily time to run for it when Voldemort came to their house."

Albus felt his heart clench tightly. Lily and James had always been two of his favorite students… when he heard of their deaths, it was like a gaping hole had appeared in his chest. "I'm sure that it wasn't easy for Remus to hear," he said, though he barely heard his own voice.

"Harry asked him if he knew James, and Lupin finally told him that they were friends… but he made it sound like they barely knew each other."

"I can't say that I'm not surprise," Albus said, looking up, feeling choked up. "Talking about his old friends just doesn't get any easier for him. But at least he was able to open up to Harry a little. That is good." Wanting to change the subject, he asked, "How well did he go with the spell?"

"He's as stubborn as his mother was," Dilys said sounding a little more cheerful. "He didn't want to give up… he fainted the first two times, but on the third he got a bunch of silver mist."

Albus beamed. "That is very impressive. Normally, wizards have to practice for a long time before they are able to produce even the slightest bit of mist and he got it on his third try correct?" He looked pointedly at Phineas—who was looking grumpy and doubtful—before he finished by asking, "Anything else that you wish to say?"

"Nothing unless you count the fact that Harry asked if Remus knew Sirius Black as well."

"Bet he loved that," Albus said, his good mood fading. He had been hoping that Harry wouldn't dwell on the past. But he couldn't blame him for feeling like this. He sighed, and said, "Maybe it's time for me to talk to Remus about this. I'll wait a little longer and see what he's going to do before I try anything."

_*A couple weeks later*_

Albus knew that the other teachers were still running spell after spell on the Firebolt to try and see if there's anything wrong with it… but so far there didn't seem to be anything wrong with it. But he did know that it most likely didn't help when Oliver Wood came to see her and told her that he didn't care what the broom did to Harry so long as they won the game first.

Albus could've sworn that he heard Minerva shouting at him from up in his office. And he also knew that her temper hadn't improved when Harry kept asking her at the end of every lesson if he could have it back. Finally, Harry seemed to have gotten the hint to leave her alone until she was done with his broom.

At the moment, Albus was pouring over some books about Patronuses.

_**The Patronus**_

_A successfully conjured Patronus can take two forms: non-corporeal or corporeal, and both types vary greatly in their appearances and strength._

_**Non-corporeal**_

_A non-corporeal Patronus is one which does not resemble any living creature and has few distinguishing features (if any). Non-corporeal Patronuses resemble a burst of vapor or smoke without any clearly defined form shooting from the tip of the wand. While they may be partially effective at halting Dementors (but not repelling them), non-corporeal Patronuses are not "fully-fledged" Patronuses, and are regarded as a more primitive or weaker version of the true Charm._

_**Corporeal**_

_A corporeal Patronus is one that is completely and fully formed and takes the shape of a bright-white, translucent animal. The particular animal the corporeal Patronus takes the form of, like Animagus forms, has been said to reflect the 'true self' of the caster. They are, however, subject to change if the caster goes through an emotional upheaval of some sort._

_If a wizard is an Animagus and can summon a corporeal Patronus, the two may take the same form. Most Patronuses take the form of an ordinary animal, but magical creatures, are not uncommon. The corporeal Patronus is also better at repelling Dementors._

Just as Albus finished reading, there was a knock at the door. Smiling, he closed his book and called, "Enter."

Remus Lupin came shuffling into the room—almost apprehensive—like he thought that he was in trouble for something. The look was so familiar to the hundreds of times he had worn it when he was sent to his office with Sirius and James that Albus couldn't hold back a chuckle. He had been watching Remus's private lessons with Harry and he could see that he was conflicted about his relationship with him and was afraid of getting any closer to the boy.

"Ah, Remus. Please sit down," Albus motioned to the chair in front of the desk, which Remus took rather reluctantly.

"You wished to see me, Headmaster?" he asked softly.

"Indeed, Remus. I was wondering how Harry's Patronus lessons were going. And also, it's Albus," he asked politely and he could see Remus shifted awkwardly in his seat. He could tell that he took Remus by surprise by asking him that question. Which was natural. He knew that Remus had not told him or anyone else that he was planning to teach Harry the Patronus Charm.

"You know about that?" he asked rather anxious.

"Yes, Remus," Albus said calmly. Remus opened his mouth to explain but Albus went on quickly but gently, "And opposite to what I'm sure you are thinking right now, Remus, I have no plans to scold you. If Harry's reaction at the last Quidditch match is any indication that the charm is going to be a necessity for him in the near future and I can't think of anyone I rather have teaching him. I was simply wondering how well _you_ think the lessons are going, and if you do not mind my prying, how much about you Harry knows."

Remus blinked in shock, but he could also see a look of relief on his face. "Well, the lessons are going very well. He can produce some wisps of smoke when confronted with a Boggart Dementor. He is making excellent progress."

"That is very impressive for a 13-year-old wizard," Albus mused.

"He is expecting too much of himself though," he said smiling sadly. "He was so like Lily during the first lesson that it was almost like seeing her again."

Albus nodded in reverence. "Yes, I've noticed that as well. While he looks almost identical to James… more than anything else it's almost like he has Lily's soul as well as her eyes."

They were both quiet for a few uncomfortable moments (uncomfortable for Remus anyway) before Remus could speak up again. "As for your second question? Harry… he only knows that I was in school when his parents were… but he doesn't know how close we were" He then added in an almost whisper, "He's getting suspicious… he doesn't say anything but I can tell."

"Suspicious in what way?" Albus asked innocently.

"He seems to know that I'm not telling him the truth," Remus replied, "Or rather, not the complete truth anyway. Just like James could always tell if I was lying. I know that he's also wondering why I'm always falling strangely ill…"

"What have you told him?" The concern in Albus's eyes was almost hidden from Remus but his former student could see right through it.

"Nothing… or nothing important anyway," Remus said softly.

"He's a smart boy, Remus," Albus reminded him gently. "He'll most likely put two and two together eventually. And even if he doesn't do it himself Hermione Granger will. I'm curious to know if either one of them has already." He was about to tell him that he had a feeling that Hermione DID already know but…

"Well, the essay isn't making anything easier," Remus muttered.

"Severus has not made things any easier, I won't deny that," Albus said placidly. "That, however, isn't what we're here to talk about. The fact remains that Harry is suspicious of you, and I believe that you shouldn't have to hide any longer. I think it's ok for you to tell him who you are. I think that it would be safe for you to tell him the truth."

"I can't," Remus whispered biting his lower lip.

"And why not, Remus?"

"Because I can't bear to see how he reacts after he finds out," Remus said with a tight voice.

"Do you truly believe that Harry would hate you, Remus? Or can you not stand the shame you feel for yourself when others find out what you are?" The look on Remus's face was enough to tell Albus that he had guessed correctly. "Remus?" he prompted calmly.

"All my life I have been shunned!" Remus suddenly burst out. "I can't go anywhere in the wizarding world without people running from me and trying to protect their children from me like I'm always a monster! I can't find work anywhere in the wizarding community because of what I am, and I can't work in the Muggle community because the Ministry forbids it. How can I NOT be ashamed of what I am? Everyone sees me as the monster that I become once a month the moment they find out what I am."

Albus let Remus rant on until he stopped to take several deep breaths. He couldn't help but sadly wonder when the last time that he had a chance to say all this.

"I don't see that," Albus told him quietly. "Nor did any of your teachers when you were here. They all knew what you were from the start, and they all remember you fondly. We need more people like you in the world Remus. I don't see you as a monster… rather as one of the kindest, gentlest, and one of the most intelligent men I have ever had the delight to know." Albus stopped for a moment to see if he said anything—but he didn't. Remus was currently staring at his lap, whether or not he was listening was anyone's guess. "I don't blame you for being angry with the Ministry's laws—for they are indeed unfair and unreasonable. But I do hope that you haven't forgotten that not everyone thinks like the Ministry."

"I know that…" Remus said in a hoarser voice than usual. "But I can't know how Harry will react when he finds out. He doesn't remember me at all and…"

"I do not believe that Harry will care whether you are a werewolf or not, Remus. Surprised? Most likely. But I think he will still know that you are still the same person that he has known all year. He may even feel better, knowing that you trust him enough to tell him the truth," Albus had steeped his fingers long ago, and now he surveyed his former student over them. "And I think that he would be happy if he got to know one of his parents closest friends. I'm sure that it would mean a lot to him if you told him how close you were to James and Lily."

"It is getting rather late, Professor," Remus remarked as he quickly stood. "And I still have a lot of papers to grade. So if you don't mind…?"

"Very well, Remus. You may leave… but promise me that you will think about what I've said tonight," Albus's voice was still kind, but there was a small hint in it that tried to tell Remus that it will be alright if he did decide to tell Harry the truth. "I've had the pleasure of teaching him for two years already, and I know that he won't be prejudiced against you. Yet another thing he inherited from both his parents."

"I will think it all over," he said finally, looking at him long and hard. "And Headmaster…" he hesitated for a moment before he croaked out, "Thank you."

"No, it was my pleasure," Albus murmured. "I am telling you all this, Remus because I can see that you want to tell Harry the truth, but you're not sure if you should. I just wanted to let you know that it's ok. I think that this would be good for the both of you."

Remus nodded a little doubtfully, but he thanked him once more before he turned and closed the door behind him.

Albus looked at the closed door for a little longer before he muttered, "It is alright for you to be happy again, Remus. You can tell people what you want to you know… at least the ones who care."

**(I know that I've been taking my time with this one, but it's not easy writing everything from Dumbledore's view… especially the parts that might've happened but aren't in the book. But on a brighter note: this is the first update for the new year! And I truly hope you all love it!)**


	30. Advocate of Illusions

**Sorry for taking so long as always. But I've been busier than ever lately with school. I also have all my other stories that I'm trying to finish… but the main reason I haven't updated lately is that I'm now actually trying to write an actual novel which has sucked up all the time. I've been getting so many reviews about taking up writing for a profession that I've finally decided to give it a try. I've only just started and I know that it won't be done for a long time, but it's coming along better than I thought. Well, here's the next chapter like I promised.**

**Chapter 30: Advocate of Illusions**

For the next few weeks, things had been unusually calm. If you didn't count all the different ways that the teachers were checking the Firebolt for the slightest trace of Dark Magic. He recently heard that Filius was convinced that it was carrying a Hurling Hex. Albus trusted his staff however, and told them to test it in every possible way until they are certain that it is harmless—though so far they hadn't found anything. And from what he heard from the portraits who have been keeping an eye on Harry lately, it was that his anti-Dementor lessons were going as well as Albus could've hoped for. It had only been a couple more lessons, but Harry was advancing quickly and was now able to produce an indistinct, silvery shadow every time the Boggart-Dementor appeared. It wasn't yet strong enough to drive it away, but enough to create almost a barrier around him. From what he knew from Harry personality, he knew that the boy was expecting more from himself than just a vague silver shimmer as protection.

"He's trying to hard if you ask me," Dilys said one evening, after about a month since the first lesson. "He's only thirteen and he thinks he's getting worse every time he faces that Boggart. He just keeps pushing himself even farther each time."

"Still not enough to help, I've noticed," Phineas said sourly.

"He's come a far way since his first lesson," Albus told them brightly. "You told me that he doesn't pass out anymore from his last lesson correct?"

"No," she answered with a nod. "Just barely, but he's found a way to stay on his feet."

"Then that's good enough for now," Albus said to her, and he thought of what happened the last time that he came in contact with a real Dementor. He then said with a dark look, "If the Dementors ever do come to a match again—which won't end well for them—" he added as he rolled his wand in his hands almost threateningly, "Then Harry should be able to say on his broom long enough for him to reach the ground safely. That's a great relief. I don't think I can stand a repeat of what happened last time."

"There's something else you might want to know," she told him uncomfortably. "He asked Remus what was under a Dementor's hood?"

Albus, who was just about to take a sip of Butterbeer, slowly lowered it as he became grim again. "Did he now? And what did he find out?"

"He's a teenager," Dilys reminded him quickly. "He was just curious. Though from the look of things, I think that he's sorry he asked."

"I don't blame him," Albus nodded as he thought about what was truly under a Dementor's hood with a shudder. Just thinking about it, still made him feel sick to his stomach. "So Remus told him?"

"About the Dementor's Kiss, yes," she said softly. "Harry seems to be greatly disturbed about it. I thought that he was going to be sick when he left the room."

"I would imagine so," Albus said quietly. "But now that he knows, maybe now he'll be more careful than before." Albus had been having a bad feeling that Harry might've found a way to sneak out of the castle and been visiting Hogsmeade without permission. How he knew this… maybe it was because Albus knew his father. It was something that James had been known for doing while he was here, and he dreaded that Harry might've inherited that talent as well. He hoped that now Harry wouldn't try something like that again in a hurry—sneaking pass Dementors was a risky and dangerous thing.

He had always found the idea of Dementors horrible. But their worst power—the ability to take away your soul—a shiver went down his spine again… to have no sense of self… no memory, no emotions… nothing. And when that empty shell dies… to just be lost forever. He looked back to today's Prophet that was still sitting on his desk from this morning:

_**Black Awaits the Dementor's Kiss**_

_**Mass-murderer Sirius Black, who had escaped Azkaban just last July, will be given the Dementor's Kiss when he is caught. This had just been confirmed by Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge yesterday, during his weekly press conference regarding the Ministry's steps to recapture Sirius Black.**_

_**This measure was taken in the hopes that Black will be caught as soon as possible by the Dementors, and that all the extra forces that are still searching for Black can be recalled and this scare will finally come to an end.**_

**"**_**Black has escaped the Dementors once. And we are going to make sure that it will never happen again," said Mr. Fudge yesterday. "It will only be a matter of time before he is recaptured, and as soon as he is in custody, it will be over for him once and for all." Meanwhile, the rumors that there have been Black sightings seen as far as Hogsmeade continue, but the Ministry will not confirm when or why. Nor will they confirm the rumors about Sirius Black, breaking into Hogwarts this past Halloween. **_

_**See page 7 for a detailed report on the press conference.**_

Albus sighed as he pushed the disgusting article away from him. If the Prophet continued to bring depressing news like this, he might have to reconsider about getting it. He looked up at Dilys again and asked, "Does Harry know that this is what will happen to Sirius Black if they ever catch him?" he asked her. "Is that why he asked about the Dementor's Kiss?"

"Yes and no," she told him with a shrug. "He seemed pretty surprised when Remus told him that it's Black's fate if they catch him. But Harry certainly does hate him. Said that Black deserved it."

That surprised him. Albus stared up at her, knowing that Harry wasn't the type of person to wish something so horrible onto someone else like that. Even if it was someone like Sirius Black.

"He's a child," she reminded him sadly. "He's upset about what he found about Black—so I can't blame him for hating him. But he's still young. He doesn't know what he's saying. I'm sure that he'll be thinking about it late tonight and wonder if that's true."

"I hope you're right about that," he said softly with a sigh, suddenly wishing that he never asked.

"On a brighter note," Dexter called from the other side of the room which turned everyone else's attention onto him. "Just got back from following Harry to the common room and ran into McGonagall on the stairs. She just gave him back the Firebolt—said that they tried everything they could think of but couldn't find anything wrong with it."

"Ah," Albus said, cheering up greatly. "That is good to hear. I'm guessing that this cheered Harry up?"

Dexter snorted. "You kidding? Barely recognized him with that smile! But I think that it was also McGonagall who looked happy. She's even keener on winning than any of the other Gryffindors."

Albus laughed brightly. "Yes, she is. She may deny it, but she truly loves the game more than anyone else I've ever met. So Harry's back in the common room then?"

"Yep," Dexter nodded while he stretched his stiff arms. "Hopefully he'll be making up with Granger and things will be back to normal with those three. It's so sad when such good friends can't work things out."

"I hope that as well," Albus nodded as he checked his watch and decided to go to bed a little early tonight. "Very well, is he going to Quidditch practice?"

"Soon," Dexter told him.

Albus nodded and asked him to let him know when the Gryffindors returned to the common room before he turned in for the night. But just a few hours later there was an unpleasant surprise waiting for him. His portraits all told him that it now looked like it was the end of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger's friendship. Dexter told him that apparently Hermione's cat had eaten Ron's rat. And now, each was so angry that they refuse to talk to the other.

"I hope that this won't last long," Albus said as he ran his hand over Fawkes plumage. He could understand how difficult it would be if someone would've taken Fawkes away from him… however, he smiled, it would be difficult to do that with a phoenix. He asked if the Gryffindor team was back in their dorms for the night and Dexter told him that Madam Hooch was still overseeing the Gryffindors practices to keep an eye on Harry. He laughed when he heard how she went on about the Silver Arrows when she saw the Firebolt.

"Is she still talking about that?" Albus laughed. She had been moaning the end of those brooms for a long time, and was always more than happy to give her opinion on any broom. Seeing and holding the Firebolt must've been a real treat for her.

"Yep," they all nodded. "We all heard the team talking about it when they came back up. They said that she talked for almost 20 minutes before they were allowed to train." Albus was also informed that Harry and Ron were a little late coming back, because Harry let Ron try out the Firebolt to help take his mind of his rat. "But they're just fine," Armando told him. "Sounds like Hooch dozed off and is a little angry at them for not waking her up before she sent them up to the castle. They're safe and sound back in the common room." Albus nodded as he bit his lower lip in anxiety. Just what was going on here? It had been months since Black had tried anything. No sightings, no attempted break-ins… not even the Firebolt was dangerous. And now… it was almost like he given up. That didn't sound like the Sirius Black that he knew… but he couldn't help but secretly wish that it was that simple. But all this waiting was slowly driving him crazy. What was Black planning now?

He would be sure to keep a very close eye on the match tomorrow.

_*Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw match*_

He went down to breakfast to see the Gryffindor table was applauding the team. And he watched with amusement when Harry had brought down his broom and had laid it in the middle of the table so that everyone could look at it. Students from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were soon coming over to look.

He smiled when he watched Cedric Diggory came over to shake his hand knew that he was congratulating Harry on getting a wonderful new broom. He had always been very fond of Cedric when Pomona had told him about how modest and kind-hearted he was.

He went back to his breakfast but glanced up when he heard the sound of loud laughter. He had seen Misters Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle walk away from the Gryffindor table with angry expressions and he watched uneasily as the three of them went back to their table and talked together in hushed tones.

The next thing he knew was that he was sitting in one of the many seats in the stands, with most of the other teachers and waiting eagerly for the match to begin. The weather was perfect today… it was clear, with light breezes… perfect to be able to see a Dementor coming from a mile away.

Albus took a seat in one of the back rows, keeping a very close eye on everything, careful not to over look anything until the two teams, both red and blue, came out and were in the middle of the field. The captains shook hands and the balls were released. And the games began. He watched them all with enjoyment and could see young Miss Chang tailing behind Harry very closely; she had decided to keep her eye on him rather than search for the Snitch herself… a good plan, but not a very wise one.

"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero," Lee Jordan shouted after a short while. "And look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now, see it turn — Chang's Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision — balance is really noticeable in these long —"

"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Albus laughed at that. He always loved Jordan's commentaries, and he knew that Minerva secretly loved them as well. At that second, he heard another angry voice bellowing out from above him:

"HARRY, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A GENTLEMAN! KNOCK HER OFF HER BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO!"

He looked up to see that Harry had to swerve around Cho Chang to avoid colliding with her. The game continued on for a while until he heard shouts of terror from the field and looked down to see them. Dementors… three tall, black hooded Dementors, were coming onto the field and were all looking up at Harry. Albus felt cold rising in his heart, but not in the usual way… he didn't hear Ariana's usual screaming this time, but before he could make sense of what was going on, before he could even reach for his wand, something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from above them. His head jerked up in amazement as a powerful Patronus charged all three Dementors… What happened next happened even faster: the Dementors were not blown away by the spell, but instead they fell, and Albus saw from the corner of his eye that they exposed some feet. At the same time, he tried to watch Harry, who managed to catch the Snitch. Madame Hooch blew the whistle, and the red part of the stadium erupted into cheers and screams, compensating for their relative quiet during the hunt for the Snitch.

Feeling both furious and disbelief he stood up and glanced at the three on the ground before looking up at Harry to see that he and the rest of the team were all in a hug in midair—now heading their way back down to earth. Judging from Harry's face, he honestly didn't realize what he had just done. But that was a full Patronus… one of the most powerful Patronuses he had ever seen.

"Ruddy brilliant!" he heard boomed Hagrid over the heads of the milling Gryffindors as he slowly made his way down to the field. When he reached the grass, he was able to see over the heads of countless students to see Harry and Remus talking—with Harry looking excited. He watched Remus lead Harry out of the crowd until they were in front of the three _'Dementors'_.

Albus stared when he realized that it Misters Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Flint in a crumpled heap on the ground, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Mr. Malfoy had been standing on Mr. Goyle's shoulders to make up for his small size. Albus was heading over there, but Minerva, with an expression of the fury on her face, got there first.

"An unworthy trick!" she was shouting, screaming so loudly that her voice couldn't be missed by anyone. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

While Harry was being called away by one of the Weasley twins (after he almost doubled up with laughter), Albus came over and were discussing the incident with Minerva. They both talked about this, while the boys all glared at the two of them. Albus pointed behind them to where Severus was coming and told her that they will decide what kind of punishment they would give them when he arrived. In the meantime, he headed straight over to Remus—who was looking shaken—most likely from what he undoubtedly saw as well.

"I'm guessing that you saw what I just saw?" he asked him pleasantly. Remus nodded, still looking like he saw a ghost. "Well, then I believe you did your job right. Harry produced quite a Patronus there…"

Remus shook his head in disbelief… "I just… I never thought…"

"I told you before, Remus," he smiled brightly. "Harry doesn't give up easily. And he has a gift for surprising everyone."

Smiling with a wink, Albus turned and walked back to the castle with Minerva, Severus, and the three boys to discuss punishments. Feeling as proud as he could be.

After a long lecture, with Minerva talking loudly, and Severus trying to find some way to get them out of trouble, Albus gave all four boys detention for the rest of the weekend before he allowed everyone to leave his office for him to sit in peace. He sat at his desk with his hands folded together as he thought about what he saw back at the field.

Harry—a thirteen year old boy—had performed a true Patronus. Remarkable. He thought back to the moment when he saw the boys disguised as the Dementors gaze up at Harry and he felt a fear creep up in his veins when he thought that they were real. He remembered how his gaze switched from Harry onto the creatures and back; afraid that Harry wouldn't be able to perform the spell on a real Dementor, that he would fall off his broom again. But Harry didn't even seem to make any effort: as far Albus could tell… he pulled out his wand, and repeated the incantation, before he went back to catching the Snitch. And then… Albus just couldn't believe that Harry ever had trouble with the spell at all. He cast it as if he had been doing it for years and conjured a full, corporeal Patronus right in front of him. It was too sunny and there was too much light to see what it was: all Albus could see was that it had four legs and was enormous… almost like a horse?

He thought about what he just saw for the longest time before his portraits reported to him that everyone was in their common rooms and that the Gryffindors were still partying. Knowing that Minerva would take care of everything if it went on for too much longer, he finally traded his wizard's hat for a nightcap and turned in for the night. Little did he know that he wasn't going to be sleeping for much longer?

_*Around 3 in the morning*_

He was awoken a few hours later when he heard Minerva knocking loudly on his door. "Albus! ALBUS! You need to wake up! We have an emergency!"

Hearing that scared tone was more enough to get him up. He quickly sat up as reached for a bathrobe next to his bed and pulled it on—pulling out his wand as he went. He had just finished tying it when he opened the door to see Minerva was standing there as pale as a sheet, and was out of breath.

"Minerva, what is…?" but before he could finish forming the question, she interrupted.

"Sirius Black!" she gasped and Albus felt his heart freeze as he raised his wand and followed her out of the room. "What happened?" he demanded and she told him.

"I told the Gryffindors to all go to bed a couple hours ago," she told him half angry/half scared. "I went to bed myself after that but then I awoken when I heard shouting and I went up to tell them off again. When I got there, Ronald Weasley told me that Sirius Black was in his dorm with a knife!"

Albus almost stopped dead when he heard that; his worst fears running through his mind. "Is he…?"

"He's just fine!" Minerva told him and he felt a wave of relief crash over him again. "He's shaken up, but unhurt. I thought that he just had a nightmare or something, but Sirius Black _was_ in their dormitory!"

"But how did he get in?" Albus demanded, not knowing how this was possible.

"That fool Sir Cadogan!" she cried, almost hysterically. "He just let him in!"

"But the password…?" he began.

"He somehow got Longbottom's list of passwords," she sounded angry. "I'll deal with Longbottom later… to think he left that lying around when just anyone could've…?"

"And Sir Cadogan just let him in!" he interrupted her, wanting to know every detail. "_I'll_ deal with him myself. But gather up the rest of the staff. I want at least one teacher to guard each of the common rooms. The rest, we will start another search of the castle."

In about 5 minutes, all the teachers—in their bathrobes and pajamas were gathered in the hall and Albus gave them the same instructions he did the first time that Sirius Black broken into the school. Several of the teachers went to go stand guard over the common rooms like he said, and the others began their search.

But as he headed down into the dungeons to begin from the bottom, he overheard Severus and Remus talking. "When I saw you with Potter after the game," Severus hissed to Remus. "I assumed that you would care more about his safety than to let in the person who wants to kill him."

"I would never let Black in, Snape. We've discussed this a million times before," Remus said, fists clenched.

"It's lucky for you," he said with his lip curling. "That Dumbledore still believes that you're on our side…"

"Severus! Remus!" Albus called to them, causing them both to look up at him. "You can argue later. We must make sure that Black is no longer in the castle if nothing else."

Severus gave him a dark look, but Albus could see the spark of revenge shining in his eyes and hurried off. He waited until Severus disappeared before he turned to Remus and bade him over.

"Sir?" he asked, as if worried.

"You must know that I don't blame you for any of this, Remus," Albus said quickly. "But I must insist. If there is anything you need to tell me about Sirius—anything at all—I implore you to tell me now."

Remus was looking fearful… Albus could practically see the turmoil going on inside him. There was no doubt that Remus was keeping something from him. But when he looked up at him, he could see it in the young man's eyes—he was afraid. Afraid of Black… afraid that he would fail to protect his best friend's son. There was confusion… and terrible pain shining from his eyes.

Remus opened his mouth, and Albus thought that he was going to tell him something, but Remus then said, "No, Sir… there's nothing."

He sighed, "Very well, Remus. Go… and if you find Sirius…?"

"You don't need to worry about that," Remus said determined as he pulled out his wand and went off to search the upper levels. Albus sighed again, heading down into the dungeons—wondering what was so painful that Remus couldn't bear to tell him.

_*A few days later*_

Sirius Black had escaped once again.

Albus wasn't the least bit surprise as he finished writing his letter to Fudge explaining what happened. This was the second time that Black had been able to sneak into and out of the castle, and he had no choice but to tighten security.

Such as Filius teaching the front doors to recognize Black's face; Argus was boarding up every tiny hole he could see in the halls. He personally fired Sir Cadogan and was finally able to convince the Fat Lady to return to her job after he had her restored. But she was still understandably nervous that she would be attacked again. He had promised to give her protection—and though he wasn't happy about it—he had hired security trolls to guard her and the Gryffindors.

As for Ronald Weasley… he was having everyone gawk at him as though he was made the new Minister of Magic. Though still severely shaken by the attack, he told Albus and the other teachers what had happened the next day. Though Albus heard that he had been telling it in much more detail to the other students.

"He said that did he?" Albus asked as he sent the letter off. "He said that Black at a twelve inch long knife? He told me that it was only seven or eight inches."

"Dramatic much?" Phineas said bored. "Doesn't seem to be suffering too much if you ask me."

"Oh, he was frightened terribly, Phineas," Albus disagreed. "I can't tell you how relieved I am that he is safe. But what makes me wonder is what was going through Black's mind?"

Albus had gone over hundreds of possibilities, but he couldn't figure out what was going on here. Black had gotten into the Gryffindor common room and found the right dormitory. And yet he failed to kill the right child? At first he thought that maybe Black got the wrong bed… but then… but then why didn't he just kill Ron and the other boys before running out? Black showed no guilt over killing twelve innocent people… and here he had five boys who were all unarmed and sleeping when he slipped into their dorm. Once again, he felt cold fury going through him at the thought of a murderer anywhere near his students and his fists clenched tightly—his nails cutting their way into his palms. Black could've killed each of them without waking them up… a possibility that made him feel faint.

So what was going on here?

"Harry said that Black must've known he'd have a job getting back out of the castle once Ron yelled and woken people up. Makes sense because then Black might've had to kill everybody just to get out… and then there would be the teachers…?"

"That's one possibility out of many," Albus said softly. "But something tells me that it's much more complicated than that."

He dragged himself from his seat and headed down to the hall to have breakfast. Though it was more eventful than he thought when Mr. Longbottom received a Howler from his grandmother. It was one punishment after another for him. He knew that Neville didn't mean to leave that list around, but he was also very lucky that no one was hurt.

He paid dearly for this though. He had been banned from all future Hogsmeade visits for the rest of the year, been given a detention, and forbidden to have the password into the tower. So now the poor boy was forced to wait outside the common room every night for somebody to let him in, while the security trolls leered at him. After Albus heard Augusta Longbottom's voice shriek how he had brought shame to the family, Albus felt that the boy had suffered enough, and resolved to try and talk to Minerva about this.

To top it all off, he had his portraits all keeping an even closer eye on Harry since the attack. He had the paintings follow the boy's every move, and even ordered some of them to keep an eye inside the common room through the night as well; to alert him should Black ever try to break in again.

The two boys had gone down to Hagrid's hut a little later, and from what he had heard, Hagrid had told them off for not talking to Hermione. While he was glad that there was someone to help remind the boys of their friends, he was, unfortunately, already on pins and needles with everything else that was happening.


	31. The Indelible Memories

**Chapter 31: The Indelible Memories**

"Boy sure seemed uncharacteristically rude to Longbottom," one portrait stated on the day of the next Hogsmeade visit. Albus had been pacing his office once again, feeling as if he was slowly, but surely, losing his mind from being trapped inside. He needed to get out of the castle or at the very least have something to do to take his mind off everything that'd been happening. He was wishing that he went to Hogsmeade as well; but he glanced up at them instead and they elaborated. "He's up to something. First, he gets told off by Snape for sneaking around on the third floor, and then he just makes some excuses to ditch Longbottom and heads right back down to the third floor and disappears."

"Why? What's happening?" Albus asked tiredly.

"No idea. He just kept making excuses to get away. He left the boy at the common room and took off, and by the time I followed him back to the third floor, he disappeared again."

Albus sighed again.

"You don't look so good, Albus," Dilys observed, as she peered down at him from her portrait.

"I'm just tired," he assured her. "With all this happening, I'm just not myself." He ran a hand through his beard. "Just keep a close eye on the third floor for me. I don't think that Harry's up to anything dangerous or risky… at least I hope not. But I don't think we have to worry now. As for me," he added as he opened his office door and getting ready to head downstairs. "I'm sure that I'll find _something_ to do to keep me entertained."

_*Later*_

Albus walked back into his office a few hours later. He had spent the better part of the last hour taking a long, hot bath to relax. "Did you find Harry?" he asked, feeling better than he had been for the last few days.

"Yes, I saw him being dragged off to Snape's office," he heard one of the portraits call out.

"Oh, no," Albus said, looking up—expecting the worst. "What happened now?"

"Not sure… but apparently, Malfoy came back and ranted about seeing Potter's head in Hogsmeade."

Albus raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Hogsmeade? How—and more importantly—why was Harry in Hogsmeade? I thought that all the secret passageways were sealed off…?"

"Not sure! But that's what Malfoy saw! Don't know if he was telling the truth or not… but it does make sense. It explains where Potter disappeared off to, and why he was sneaking around and trying to ditch Longbottom."

"I'd look for any excuse to ditch Longbottom," Phineas yawned.

"Phineas," Albus said firmly before he turned back to the others.

"Lupin covered up for him though," one of them went on. "He's good at making others feel guilty isn't he? Said that he wasn't going to cover up for him again, and that he couldn't make him take Black seriously; but that he should remember what the Dementors showed him. Said that his parents gave their lives to protect him and that it was a poor way to repay them by gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks. I don't think that Harry will try sneaking off like that again in a real hurry."

"That is cold," Dexter said shaking his head.

"But if it keeps Harry inside," Albus said, knowing that he was sounding cold himself—Harry wasn't even supposed to be in Hogsmeade in the first place. Maybe Remus sounded a bit harsh, but he was also right. He said coolly, "I see that Remus hasn't lost his touch. After all, he had a gift for making James and Sirius guilty. And that isn't something that just anyone can say."

"Oh, and before I forget, Lupin took some kind of map," he heard a wheezy voice call out from near the ceiling.

"Map?" Albus repeated in confusion.

"Not sure what it's about…" someone else said. It was difficult to tell whose voices were coming from where. "Just that Lupin said something about a map and that its manufactures would've thought that it was funny if it lured them out of the castle."

"Interesting," Albus whispered to himself. "Sounds like Remus is keeping more from me than I thought."

"I knew that werewolf couldn't be trusted!" Phineas called out in a know-it-all voice.

"Enough, Phineas," Albus told him sternly. "If it was something about Sirius Black, I know that he would've come and tell me."

"You trust to easily old man," Phineas told him sourly as he folded his arms.

"I'm glad to say that they've also made up with Granger," called another voice. Albus turned just in time to see Everard once again strolling into his picture frame. "Just saw them! She came to them and told them that Buckbeak lost the trial."

"Oh no," Albus groaned, running a hand through his hair. He knew just how much Hagrid cared for all of his creatures—and he knew that Buckbeak wasn't particularly dangerous… "Poor Hagrid… he must be devastated."

"Granger almost gave up that they might be able to save the Hippogriff but then Weasley said that he wasn't going to let her do all the work all by herself anymore. And she started crying and hugged him," the former Headmaster said. He shrugged and said, "Women…"

"Hey!" called out Dilys and all the other former Headmistresses.

"Well, in any case, I'm glad to hear that they made up," Albus said conversationally, still feeling his heart ache for Hagrid. "They all need each other too much to hold a grudge forever." He stood up and reached for his cloak to wrap around his shoulders. "I'll go down and talk to Hagrid now."

_*Couple days later*_

Hagrid was frozen with shock at the verdict and nothing that Albus had said had helped; his friend just kept blaming himself for getting tongue-tied and forgetting dates… but Albus had a bad feeling that the committee's mind had already been made up thanks to Lucius.

"There's still the appeal," Albus had said after Armando had reported back just before the Easter holidays, saying that he heard the trio talking about how Hagrid was taking the news.

"That's exactly what Weasley said," Armando said sadly. "But Hagrid just seems to have lost all hope. However, it cheers me up slightly to know that Miss Granger had gotten a small bit of justice for Buckbeak."

"How so?" Albus asked curiously.

"Malfoy called Hagrid pathetic," he explained. "And Miss Granger had finally cracked and punched him in the face."

Phineas let out a shout of indignation while the others let out bawls of laughter. Albus didn't know if he should laugh or not at this information. Though he disapproved of violence, he couldn't deny that he felt a bit of retribution for Hagrid and Buckbeak. But the next piece of information that he gave him was even more shocking.

"Also," Armando said, "She just walked right out of Divination."

"Who did?" Albus asked politely—though he had a pretty good idea to who 'she' was.

"Hermione Granger of course!" he answered in an almost awe voice. "She just got right up and left. Said that she had enough and she wasn't coming back to that class."

"What happened?" Albus asked, shaking his head incredulously.

"No idea," he shrugged, "I was watching at the foot of the classroom like you usually have me do. And I watched her leave before the bell rang and she didn't come back. The boys showed up after class had ended and I overheard them talk about how she was cracking up. That girl is having one bad day. First she hit Malfoy, forgets to go to Charms, and now this…"

"She missed Charms?" Albus asked in surprise. "I thought that she loved that class."

"She does," Armando told him. "But she's just been under so much stress, and so tired that she must've fallen asleep or something and missed it. She was wailing about it all the way up to Divination."

"Knew that something as powerful as a Time-Turner would be too much for a Muggleborn to handle," Phineas said smugly.

Dilys sighed from her side of the room and asked, "Please, Dumbledore. Can't we move _him_? I was thinking to North Tower? Hardly anyone goes there."

"WHAT?" Phineas bellowed and they started up yet another yelling match.

As they argued, Albus took his seat and thought about everything that had been happening with the trio since they heard of Buckbeak's trial. Ron had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak's appeal and spent many hours looking up anything that he thought would be helpful. Hermione was still struggling to use the Time-Turner and keep up with all her classes. Albus felt his heart go out to the girl at the very thought of all the work she that she was doing.

Harry barely had time for his homework as he had Quidditch practice every day—with the pressure between the two Houses was reaching its boiling point. Albus couldn't remember the last time a match was causing so much tension. The closer they got to the game, the more the two teams and their Houses were quickly reaching the breaking point. He was constantly being told of the many fights and jinxes that were used between Gryffindor and Slytherin—and Poppy had threatened to quit if she wasn't given a break.

The Gryffindor team was having a bad time of it as well. They, Harry especially, couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip themup; and was now constantly surrounded by people to escort them. He had also gotten many complaints from the teachers saying that it was impossible for anyone to get to classes on time because of the huge blockades they caused in the halls.

It would be a great relief when the match was finally over.

_*The Next day*_

The Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall the next day to enormous applause. Albus looked up to see them all grinning broadly as, not just the Gryffindors, but the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were joined in and treated them all as if they were conquering heroes. He also noticed out of the corner of his eyes, the Slytherin table hissing loudly as they passed—not that he could blame them. Whoever won this next match would win the Quidditch Cup.

He could see that both teams were very pale and they didn't bother themselves to eat much. But at last, Oliver Wood stood up, said something to them all, and the entire team got up as well. As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again—including some of the teachers.

Feeling cheerful, he watched them all leave, and he couldn't help but notice as Miss Chang waved merrily at Harry and he blushed back at her.

_*The Game*_

Albus took his seat and looked around to see the most of the crowd was wearing scarlet rosettes, or waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion, or his personal favorite—brandishing banners that said "GO GRYFFINDOR!" or "LIONS FOR THE CUP." Behind the Slytherin goal posts, however, his two hundred Slytherins were in their trademark green with the silver serpent glittered on their own flags, and Severus sat in the very front row, looking grim.

Albus smiled at him as he turned back to the field… though as the Headmaster, he wasn't supposed to be taking sides… but he was wearing a scarlet rosette underneath his robes.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as the commentator as usual. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years —"

The Slytherins booed out at Lee's comments for several minutes until he introduced the Slytherin team.

"And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill —"

More boos from the Slytherin crowd. Albus, however, looked over them all—and he could see how Mr. Jordon came up with that conclusion. Draco Malfoy was easily the smallest person on the Slytherin team; the rest of them towered over the smaller Gryffindor team. Albus knew that wasn't the best strategy… while they were larger and stronger… the Gryffindors were smaller, able to fly easier and quicker. This would be an interesting game to say the least.

"Captains, shake hands!" he heard Madam Hooch shout over the noise and he folded his own hands and leaned back in his seat. "Mount your brooms!" she called to them all. "Three… two… one…"

The game that followed was the dirtiest game that Albus could remember seeing for a long, long time.

After the first goal, Angelina Johnson was nearly thrown from her broom when Marcus Flint smashed into her. Fred Weasley then hit Marcus in the back of his head for revenge and caused a bad nose bleed. And that was just in the first few minutes.

The game continued like this for some time. It was completely different from the match with Ravenclaw… that one had been exiting and tough no doubt about it, but this one was downright dirty. People flew into each other, the Beaters didn't care if they were swinging their bats at Bludgers or heads, and to top it off—Lee Jordan kept swearing into the microphone. Albus had seen a lot of Hogwarts Quidditch-matches, but this had to be one of the most brutal ones to watch… at least you couldn't say that it was boring. The game became more and more rough with each second; and when Malfoy caught the end of Harry's broom to prevent him from catching the Snitch, Albus didn't stand up, shouting boos and insults as did most of the rest of the crowd did around him. But at that time, he heard a noise that should have been impossible to hear among this crowd, yet still he heard it. His eyes tried to find the source, and a wave of shock crashed over him at what he saw.

There was a dog.

There was an enormous, jet-black dog sitting at the very bottom of the bleachers—next to the tribune not far from where Remus was sitting. The dog was huge, almost bear-sized, and looked quite intimidating as it barked like mad at the broomsticks in the air; as if enjoying itself.

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics!" Albus heard Madam Hooch screech, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" he heard Lee Jordon shouting "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B —"

But Albus seemed almost transfixed by the dog as it watched the players fly. Its tail was wagging madly as if it understood exactly what was happening… Albus leaned back into his seat, but kept a close eye on the dog for the rest of the match.

On and on the game went until finally, Harry was able to catch the Snitch.

Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto the field. Hands were raining down on their backs. Hagrid, who was plastered with crimson rosettes — "Yeh beat 'em, Harry, yeh beat 'em! Wait till I tell Buckbeak!"

Albus grinned at those words as he also stood up. He took one last glance back down at the dog, but he saw that the large animal was still wagging its tail, and then, amid all the noise that now erupted from the side of the Gryffindors, left its hiding place and disappeared behind the stands.

Not even the sudden appearance and disappearance of the dog was able to stop the happiness that was flowing through him however. He could only smile even wider when he saw Minerva crying, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and at the Gryffindor team that was brought to the stands where he was waiting with the Quidditch Cup. He beamed at them all as he passed the Cup to them and it was lifted it into the air in victory.

_*One week later*_

The Gryffindor celebrations lasted at least a week as well as the random parties that kept breaking out. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating along with them; as June approached, the days became clear and humid; truly beautiful weather. Causing everyone to wish that they were out on the grounds instead of being forced to stay inside and study for their upcoming exams.

"Girl's pushing herself too hard," Dexter told him on the final day of exams. "Miss Granger has so much work on her shoulders… even without Divination, she's got eleven classes to study for. She's burning herself out."

"Well this year is almost over. Hopefully we can make it to the end without any more accidents," Albus said, hoping he didn't sound too optimistic. "I am certain that she will be eager to drop whatever subjects that she doesn't care for once she finishes her classes."

He was informed of how well that the students had done in their exams of course… and he was very interested to hear that Remus had compiled a sort of obstacle course outside for his third years, where they had to wade across a deep pool where a Grindylow was prowling, dodge a field full of that were filled with Red Caps, march across a marsh where a Hinkypunk was trying to confuse them, before they finally climbed into an old trunk where lurked a Boggart.

"He got full marks," Dexter told him late that afternoon. "And can you believe that Potter had actually beat Miss Granger? He got the highest score. Amazing what a student can do when they have a proper teacher isn't it?"

"Spoiled if you ask me," Phineas stated stubbornly. "He's too easy on them…"

"What of the others?" Albus asked loudly over Phineas.

"Mr. Weasley did very well until he reached the Hinkypunk… got waist-deep in the marsh before Lupin had to go and get him before he was eaten… and Miss Granger…" he seemed close to laughing at this point, "Miss Granger's worst fear was McGonagall telling her that she failed everything!"

Albus smile faded slightly as the portraits all roared with laughter. Failure wasn't anything to laugh about… Albus only smiled an understanding, sad smile. He knew what failure meant to Hermione and to others like her who always tried so hard only to know that they failed in the end. He knew that feeling all too well, after all, how hard had he had to work to try and make up for all his mistakes? He understood how painful and terrifying it must've felt for her… it certainly was for him.

_*Flashback*_

_Albus was sitting at a weather-old desk in his bedroom with Gellert Grindelwald sitting there right beside him. Intelligent and cunning, and undoubtedly ambitious—Gellert made sure that every decision he had ever made was calculated, specific, and thorough in every way so that there was no flaws. _

_"Wizards are the ones who are born with magical powers," he said to Albus as they went over a map of England. "That alone proves that we are superior. We have the ability to achieve greatness, Albus. Don't you understand? As wizards, we were meant to reign supreme over Muggles, Squibs, Mudblo… Muggle-borns and all the rest who are beneath us. I assure you, us taking control is what is best for this world! We can create a world where wizards wouldn't have to hide any longer!"_

_He smiled serenely at him when Albus didn't say anything._

_"What good as come from coexisting with Muggles?" he asked. "Consider those weaklings equals? We should be forcing them into hiding!"_

_"But why must we go to such extremes?" Albus asked him slowly._

_"For the greater good, Albus. It's all for the greater good," was his friend's simple answer._

_There was no hint of hesitation in Gellert's response… almost as if he had been constantly rehearsing them… Albus looked over and studied the closed expression on Gellert's face._

_Everything that Albus had ever hoped for was in his grasp… everything that he wanted—desired was possible if he joined Gellert's plan. And yet…_

_Albus turned his face away from his friend. There was a feeling in his gut that told him that something was wrong. Albus knew that many innocent people would be hurt by this plan, including his brother and sister. But some inexplicable force kept him from saying anything negative to Gellert, preventing him from standing up to these ideas that went against his own values. _

"_What say you?" Gellert asked with that bitter smile._

_Albus was frozen where he sat as he looked long and hard at him. He finally answered:_

"_Yes."_

**The cemetery**

_"The Deathly Hallows?" Albus repeated with a smile as the two of them walked through Godric's Hollow cemetery to the grave._

_"The Deathly Hallows," Gellert repeated with passion. "Look," he said and pointed to an odd-looking mark on the Peverell gravestone. At first glance, it could easily been mistaken for an eye. A symbol composed of a circle within a triangle with a line straight down the middle. "It's strange how all our hopes and dreams are connected by one simple mark. Obviously, the wand is the best out of all three. We will be able to use it to defeat everyone who stands in our way. But to become 'Master of Death' then we must covet all three times."_

_Albus pondered that thought. He had to agree that the Elder Wand was, without a doubt, the most powerful wand in all existence, and they would surely defeat any challenger in a duel. The Invisibility Cloak, seemed to be the weakest as anyone could learn the art of concealment. However, the object that particularly interested Albus was the Resurrection Stone. For once he found it then he would use it to bring back his mother and father… to remove all the responsibility of caring for Aberforth and Ariana._

_Gellert grinned at him. "If we are going to fulfill all our goals then we will need them," he told him. "Once we find all three, we will be invincible. If we can successfully conquer death, then nothing will be able to stand in our way. It all starts as soon as we finish our plans. Don't you agree, Albus?"_

_Albus smiled back, his guilt being pushed to the back of his conscience. "I do indeed agree." _

**The House**

_Aberforth was back on his feet after Albus had forced himself between him and Gellert._

_His brother was shaking, gasping for breath—still ready to fight even though he had just been tortured. "You want to want to fight?" he screamed at Gellert. "You want to duel? Fine, I'll more than willing take you down for that!" He whipped out his own wand as well. _

_Gellert lost his temper and slashed his wand through the air, a deep gash appeared on Aberforth's face as he sent a curse flying back at him. Albus stood, frozen and in shock as Gellert yelled out, "You brats will never understand! How could a school dropout like you possibly understand anything what we're planning? YOU? A brainless and brute child who can barely read. And her," he pointed his wand at Ariana who had just wandered up from her room and was pressed up against the wall in terror. In fury, Aberforth ran sideways until he put himself between Gellert and Ariana. "She can't even control her magic! What use is she?"_

_Gellert wasn't even himself anymore—his eyes had turned mad and was looking ready to kill. He pointed his wand at Aberforth's chest._

"_NO!" Albus yelled and jumped in. He had to fight back; to fight the man he thought was his best friend—he had to protect his brother._

_Gellert stared at him in astonishment when he had pulled his own wand on him. "Albus," he said gravely. "You're making a huge mistake. Are you really willing to throw away everything? All we planned for the greater good? And for what? Him?" he pointed to his brother. _

_Albus couldn't say a single word—his hand was shaking as he kept his wand pointed at him. Albus understood, what he was doing. He knew what the greater good was all about because he had helpt to create it. His brain was telling him one thing… his heart quite another. _

_All he knew for sure was that he was seeing a part of Gellert that he had never seen before and he didn't like what he saw._

_He couldn't remember much of what happened after that except that it was an all-out war._

_Jets of bright light flew every which way when all three boys started to duel. Flashes of light that half blinded them, explosions were sounded off as curses met in mid-air; everything that was in sight was either blasted into pieces or set on fire. Ariana was screaming as she slid down to the floor and stayed helplessly still, blinded by her own tears and covering her ears to try and block out the shouts and noise. There was no sense of direction or sensation of what was __reality __anymore. _

_Albus wasn't sure what had happened, except that Ariana suddenly stood up… he remembered seeing her scared face as she ran forward towards them… and then the next second…_

_He screamed out curse, not even remembering what kind of spell that it had been, and suddenly the largest blast of all sounded as three curses met in midair. The force of the collision caused a great explosion and brought down the ceiling above them. Albus dove aside and hit the floor hard—he tasted blood as he closed his eyes and covered his head… hearing the sounds of the house being torn apart._

_Praying that it would stop… that it would hurry up and end…_

_And then it did._

_The sounds of the caving in roof stopped… only the occasional tinkling of broken title pieces and splintered wood falling from the destroyed second floor was left. Otherwise, it was complete silence. _

_The smoke had cleared as Albus slowly got up. He coughed and looked around, trying desperately to see what had happened. That was when he heard it. Aberforth screamed out and Albus spun around to see that Aberforth was cradling a body in his arms. _

_Ariana was lying as limp as a rag doll in Aberforth's arms… her long blond hair was spread about her almost like a fan… her beautiful bright blue eyes… were faded and lifeless as they stared at him… blaming him for what had happened…_

_And Gellert Grindelwald was nowhere to be found._

_Albus's wand slipped from his numb fingers and fell to the cracked floor with a loud clatter. He stared into those dead eyes… eyes that he knew would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life._

_*End of Flashback*_

It had been many years since that day… and he still often had nightmares about it. As his punishment for his foolishness, not a single day had passed had he not thought of his sister and of Grindelwald. He could've easily found a way to stop those thoughts from haunting him… but he decided that he deserved to be punished.

Dexter's voice suddenly interrupted his memories and brought him back to the present. He forced himself to hear his words. "Oh, they ran into Fudge on the stairs. I don't think it went very well."

"Oh? And what happened?" Albus asked, not sure if he would like the answer.

"They just talked. About Buckbeak of course. But they're outraged that Fudge was certain that the Hippogriff is going to be killed. Ron was complaining how they even had an axe ready," he told him with a shake of the head. "Well, I have to agree with him when he said that this isn't justice."

Albus sighed as he nodded grimly. "I'll hear about the verdict soon. We can only hope that Fudge will do his job for once."

_*Later*_

Albus read the short message from Hagrid—a letter that was smudged with tears and was shaking so badly that he could barely read anything. Telling him that they had lost the appeal and Buckbeak was going to be killed at sundown. He sent a quick letter back to him, telling him how sorry he was and that he wished to be there for him. Albus sighed, wishing that there was more he could've done. He watched owl fly back to Hagrid's hut when Everard appeared and said, "They want to go down and be with him."

"By _'they'_ I'm assuming that you're talking about Harry, Ron, and Hermione?" Albus asked sadly, not in the mood for any news.

"Who else?" he demanded grimly. "They just got a letter from Hagrid telling them that Buckbeak's history at sundown. They're going to sneak out so that they be there with him until Fudge and the others arrive."

"I see," Albus sighed as he continued to look down onto the grounds.

"And I notice, though I'm not surprised, that you chose not to do anything about it," Phineas snapped irritably from his painting.

"I think Hagrid needs them," Albus answered simply. "And please don't talk to me right now. I need some quiet… some time to think."

_*Later*_

The sun was setting just as he was pulling on his cloak. He took one last look at the grounds that were glowing from the fading sun. "DUMBLEDORE!" he heard a shout. Albus looked up to see Dexter was waving at him—trying to get his attention. He then proceeded to tell him that he saw the trio go down and then go down again.

"What?" Albus asked bewildered, certain that he heard wrong.

"Just like I said," Dexter said quickly. "I saw the three of them cover themselves with the cloak and leave, but then I saw Harry and Hermione following them. AGAIN! They came out of the broom cupboard and followed themselves down the grounds. It's that Time-Turner's magic!"

"What was that I remember hearing that Granger would never use that Time-Turner for anything but her classes?" Phineas asked loudly. "You can't trust kids to do anything right can you? Why you all fool yourselves into thinking otherwise, I'll never know… and another thing…"

He went on like that for awhile, but Albus wasn't listening as he thought about what he had just learned. He was deeply concerned. He knew that if they were caught, then they would be in even more trouble than ever. They weren't just breaking a simple school rule this time—this was the Wizarding law…

He had to do something… he quickly went down to the Great Hall to where Fudge and the others were waiting. With a dark look at Fudge, he led the way down to Hagrid's hut—taking as much time as he dared; while keeping his eyes open. While they took the slow walk down to the hut, he pondered what on earth had been going through those kid's minds when they thought of this. He knew that those three were willing to do anything to help their friends… but what were they thinking?

Once or twice he thought he saw something move on the very outskirts of the forest, but didn't try to look more closely in case the others noticed.

They had arrived at Hagrid's hut, and he knocked, hoping that the trio wasn't still inside. A few seconds later, Hagrid—looked petrified as he opened the door and let them in.

"Where is the beast?" Macnair demanded as he glanced out the window to see the Hippogriff tied out there.

"Out — outside," Hagrid croaked and Albus gently laid his hand on one of Hagrid's trembling arms.

"It'll be alright, Hagrid," he whispered kindly to him.

"We — er — have to read you the official notice of execution, Hagrid. I'll make it quick. And then you and Macnair need to sign it. Macnair, You're supposed to listen too, that's procedure-"

Macnair walked away from the window, and Albus was able to get a better view of Buckbeak.

As Fudge's voice started again, Albus saw him. He saw Harry darted out from behind a tree, vaulted the fence into the pumpkin patch, and approached Buckbeak carefully. Albus looked back to the three Ministry officials and knew that he had to keep them inside until they were able to get Buckbeak out of sight.

"It is the decision of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures that the Hippogriff Buckbeak, hereafter called the condemned, shall he executed on the sixth of June at sundown—"

Albus nodded to Fudge and the others as he continued to pat Hagrid's arm in a consoling way… but his eyes were still fixed on the window as he watched Harry bow. He was pleased to see Buckbeak return the bow and then stand up as Harry began to fumble with the knot of rope tying Buckbeak to the fence.

"… sentenced to execution by beheading, to be carried out by the Committee's appointed executioner, Walden Macnair as witnessed below. Hagrid, you sign here…"

Albus let Hagrid slump over to the table and began to write his name with a hand that was shaking so badly that he almost tore the parchment in half. While they were all focused on him, Albus watched Harry throw all his weight onto the rope, but Buckbeak had dug in his front feet—not wanting to go.

'_Come on, Buckbeak,'_ Albus thought in worry as Hagrid had finished writing. _'You have to trust them. I don't know how long I can keep them in here.'_

"Well, let's get this over with. Hagrid, perhaps it will be better if you stay inside —?" Fudge asked him.

"No," Hagrid said quickly, tears falling down his already red and swollen face. "I — I wan' ter be with him… I don' wan' him ter be alone —"

Albus could feel his heart quickening as he looked back to the window to see that Harry was still tugging hard on the rope around Buckbeak's neck. Finally, the Hippogriff began to walk, rustling its wings irritably and towards the forest. But they were still in plain view of Hagrid's door.

"One moment, please, Macnair," he said quickly. "You need to sign too." He reminded them all. Macnair… whose hand had just reached for the doorknob stopped and he came back, looking irritable. As he signed his name with a flourish, Albus watched and saw Hermione's white face was sticking out from behind a tree.

He didn't know what she was saying to them, but Albus saw them reached the trees… Hermione darting out to help make Buckbeak move faster… at last, they were out of view and Albus almost sighed with relief.

"Let's get this over with," Macnair snarled as he headed back and forced Hagrid's back door open with a bang. There was a stunned silence as Macnair looked around at the _apparently_ empty grounds. The rest of them followed him and for a moment no one was able to speak.

"Where is it? Where is the beast?"

"It was tied here!" shouted Macnair furiously, pointing to the fence. "I saw it! Just here!"

"How extraordinary," Albus said trying hard not to laugh; his eyes flickered to the forest.

"Beaky!" said Hagrid huskily as he took several steps forward, his knees trembling as if he hardly dared to hope.

There was a swishing noise, and the thud of an axe and Albus nearly jumped when he heard it. Macnair, who had always had a bad temper, swung it into the fence in anger. As Hagrid began to sob tears of happiness.

"Gone! Gone! Bless his little beak, he's gone! Musta pulled himself free! Beaky, yeh clever boy!"

Even if they had been alone, Albus didn't think that he could ever tell Hagrid what had happened. He glanced back at the forest, making plans to speak to those two later on and decide what to do with Buckbeak after he gave them both a long lecture.

"Someone untied him!" Macnair was snarling as he went to the look at the fence. "We should search the grounds, the forest."

Sensing danger, Albus said quickly, "Macnair, if Buckbeak has indeed been stolen, do you really think the thief will have led him away on foot?" Albus thought that a couple ribs were going to crack from trying not to laugh at the look of fury on his face. "Search the skies, if you will… Hagrid, I could do with a cup of tea. Or a large brandy."

"O' — o' course, Professor," said Hagrid, who sounded weak with happiness and turned back to the hut. "Come in, come in…"

He followed Hagrid inside, where his old friend broke down completely and started crying from happiness. Albus could only smile and say, "You see, Hagrid? There's always hope."

**(Finally done! Hope you like this chapter! I think one maybe two more chapters that talk about year 3. Then we'll move onto year 4. Sorry for taking so long, but I'm afraid that the computer was infected with a bad virus and I lost a lot of my work. Anyway, thank you for your patience and again, thank you.)**


	32. The Rat's True Face

**Chapter 32: The Rat's True Face**

After several long minutes—the Ministry had been unable to do anything else but admit defeat, and so they all went back up to the castle. Albus was only too happy to do so when he saw the ecstatic look on Hagrid's face. So the four of them were making their way back across the grounds with the sun going down—and with Macnair far behind them swearing and complaining. Albus's eyes often went to the forest… wondering what on earth he should do. _'Well,'_ he thought with a glance behind him at Fudge, there wasn't much he could do with the minister there with them.

He would have to wait until they left before he could find Harry and Hermione. But as the front doors opened, Albus raised his eyebrows in surprised to see Remus sprinting down the grand staircase and straight past them. Fudge and the others were too busy grumbling about Buckbeak's escape to pay much attention, but Albus watched Remus—and was concerned to see just how pale and determined his face was—as he ran past them without even looking at them.

What was going on? Albus watched his progress until he was out of sight.

A few more minutes later, Hagrid, who was still singing at the top of his voice, and weaving slightly as he walked; had appeared. This caused the committee to look even more annoyed and they left the hall, determined to find some way to salvage the situation. Albus chuckled at Hagrid and offered to have a drink with him later… though to be honest, he thought that Hagrid had enough.

As Hagrid continued into the Great Hall, something else that was strange happened. Albus heard more running footsteps and looked up in time to see Severus charging down the stairs and through the doors just as Remus had. Albus watched in astonishment to see that Severus had almost the exact same look on his face as Remus did… the only difference was that there was also a hint of triumph there as well.

"Severus?" he called after him, but if Severus heard him, he ignored him. He seemed more focused on his destination. Albus followed Hagrid into the Hall… he knew that he shouldn't worry… he knew that his two teachers were more than capable of taking care of themselves. But something about this troubled him deeply. As he shared a quick drink with Hagrid, he couldn't help but wonder what was going on…?

_*A few hours later that night*_

Albus felt a strange chill go throughout his body. Ever since he saw two of his teachers running off earlier, he couldn't help but feel anxious… he strolled through the darkened corridors, trying to figure out what was causing this uneasy feeling but unable to have any luck at all. First, Harry and Hermione had used the Time-Turner to go back and saved Buckbeak.

Not that he was completely against it, they did just save an innocent creature from a terrible fate… but he felt that he was missing an important part of the puzzle here. He ran his hand through his beard as he thought about it. What was going on here?

He glanced absentmindedly out a random window to see that it was unusually misty that night. That was when he saw it. The lake was shrouded with a strange mist… but through it all, he could just make out the tiny glimmers of silver. He stopped dead in his tracks as he turned his full attention to that light. What was going on out there?

And then suddenly he saw it. It was a blinding, dazzling, silver animal—so bright that he had to screw up his eyes to see anything at all. He tried to make out what it was… it looked like a horse. It had to be, it was galloping across the black surface of the lake. He gasped in horror at what he saw…

Dementors.

At least a hundred of them had emerged from the dark fog and were swarming. He saw the light of the Patronus's head lower and charge at them all… galloping around and around the black shapes on the ground, and the Dementors were falling back, scattering, retreating into the darkness…

And then suddenly… they were gone.

Completely stunned, Albus stood there—transfixed at the Patronus—unable to turn away. He watched it canter back across the lake… now that the fog had disappeared he could see that it wasn't a horse like he thought it was.

It was a handsome stag that shone with a fierce, bright light. He watched it reach the far side of the lake… it lingered for a brief second…

And then it to disappeared.

As soon as it had faded, Albus had come back to his senses. He shook his head forcefully as he immediately turned and headed straight downstairs, hundreds of possibilities running through his mind at what happened… for he had seen that same Patronus once before at the game against Ravenclaw.

But by the time that he got there, Severus was waiting there for him… along with three students and none other than Sirius Black.

_*Later*_

Bound and chained Sirius was 'escorted' up to the charms classroom by Severus as he quickly told him what had happened. He claimed that Black had Confunded the kids and they were convinced that he was innocent. He said that he saw them sneaking out the castle, obviously thinking that they were going to be able to catch Black single-handed.

"And do you think that it's best that you will let them escape without any punishment?" he asked dryly once he had finished explaining everything he saw. "You have let them get away with so much before now, Headmaster that they have grown so full of themselves."

"Severus, they are lucky to escape with their lives," Albus told him. But he knew that there was something that didn't make any sense here. He had seen Harry and Hermione rescue Buckbeak… and now they were attacked by Sirius Black? Why were they out on the grounds in the first place? If Severus had been knocked out, you think that Sirius would've killed them all and escaped. This didn't make any sense.

"I wish to have a quick word with Black," he answered him. "You said that he has been asking to see me since he woke up?"

Severus looked angry but nodded and disappeared with a smirk. Albus quickly spoke to Madam Pomfrey on the kid's condition.

"They'll live," she assured him gently. "Potter and Granger seemed to have fainted from their encounter with the Dementors but nothing worse than that. Weasley on the other hand is a bit of a mess… but it's nothing serious or life-threatening. No, I am sure that they can leave the Hospital Wing as early as tomorrow."

Albus sighed in relief and went up to Filius's office to have that word with Black. When he got there, he could hear Severus taunting him from inside the room.

"You know Black; I do enjoy love the fact that I'm responsible for you getting what you deserve," Severus smirked with a great deal of satisfaction.

Albus couldn't hear what Black said to that, but Severus laughed cruelly. "I can't tell you how long I've waited to see you get your long awaited punishment. The Dementor's Kiss, I can only imagine what that must be like. They say that it's supposed to be unbearable to watch but I'll do my best…"

"Severus," Albus called firmly. Severus looked at him in annoyance and disappointment. "That is enough," he told him. "You may go, Severus. I will guard Black until the Dementors come," Severus nodded and left immediately casting one more loathed glance back at Sirius. Albus sighed before looking coldly at Sirius. Even now, Albus found it hard to believe that the young boy that he used to laugh with whenever he and his best friend were brought to his office was now the same man that was tied up and looking away from him as if he was still a child caught in wrong-doing.

"Sirius," he said coldly as he shut the door and walked forward. "Sirius, look at me."

Sirius sighed before he forced himself to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry it has to be like this," he told him, his voice was still icy though. "I have never approved of the Dementors' ways of disposing of dangerous people. It was not my decision. Had it been up to me, you would have spent the rest of your life locked away with Aurors guarding you." He stared at the prisoner for several moments. "I don't understand, Sirius," he sighed quietly. "You loved James and Lily, I remember how close you were at school and even after. What happened? Where did it all go wrong?"

For the first time since he had entered the room, Sirius broke his silence. He laughed… it was a disturbing, cold laugh that sounded more like a sob. Albus was taken aback… now what was happening?

"That student didn't. That student is still here. I am begging you, Dumbledore," he whimpered at him with pleading eyes. "Please, _please_ listen to me before you call the Dementors in! I know that it's too late… but I once looked up to you and I'm begging that you at least hear me out. I am not a murderer." Tears had sprouted behind Sirius's eyes as he spoke fell down his dirty face. Albus felt his heart ache, but wasn't buying his story.

"It wasn't me," Sirius whispered, more to himself than anything. "I hated you, Dumbledore," he said. "Merlin, how I hated you. But not for telling the Ministry I was the Secret-Keeper, not for believing me to have killed my best friends. It was because I hated you for never coming to question _me_, never bothered to see if maybe you were wrong. That you never bothered to do what you just did and ask me why," Sirius spoke so softly that Albus could barely hear him. "You were the one person I could tell what happened, the one person who would _know_ I was telling the truth. But how could I? I was never given a trial… no one ever listened to me."

Albus considered him for a moment, slightly shaken at the serenity in his voice. "Well, here I am, Sirius. Why don't you tell me just why you are not responsible for your crimes? Were you bewitched, put under the Imperius curse?"

Sirius laughed again. "Even now, you just thought of that?" he asked a little hysterically.

"Why don't you just tell me what happened?" Albus asked, though a little more softly.

"Dumbledore, please you must believe me. I was not the spy for Voldemort. It was Peter. I didn't do it…" Sirius pleaded.

Peter Pettigrew? How was that possible? "Sirius," he said to him, his anger starting to rise again. "Peter Pettigrew is dead! You killed him yourself. You cannot deny it."

"I…" Sirius' voice cracked, "I did not kill Peter. But I can't deny that I wanted to kill him. Even when I had the chance to tonight. He betrayed Lily and James. He killed those innocent muggles and he cut of his own finger before he left me there to take the blame."

Albus stared at him. Peter Pettigrew? The killer? The betrayer? "Sirius my time grows short. The Dementors will be here soon and I did not come here to hear stories. I wanted to know why you did it and nothing more."

"HAVE YOU NOT BEEN LISTENING TO ME? I'M INNOCENT!" Sirius screamed in frustration, causing him to jump up and pull out his wand.

"Please-please!" Sirius begged, staring at his wand with fear. "Please believe me, it wasn't me, it was Peter!"

"And why should I believe you, when you've been trying to get into Hogwarts all year to get Harry?" Albus demanded, his anger burning inside him at the thought of this man anywhere near Harry or any of the students.

"It was Peter!" Sirius exclaimed desperately, breathing heavily. "We switched! He was the spy! He had been the one who had been passing information to Voldemort for a year before James and Lily died!"

The only noise in the room for several long moments was Sirius's heavy breathing. "What do you mean?" Albus whispered in shock, feeling as though a Dementor had entered the room already and freezing his insides. "Sirius Black, you were the Potter's Secret-Keeper, you were there in the street explosion and you were the only one to survive it. What else is there to believe?"

"I…" Sirius couldn't seem to find the words, "At the last minute," he whispered, "We changed Secret-Keepers. We thought it was the perfect plan, I thought it was the perfect plan. I thought it would keep all of them safe," he spat in disgust. "Believe me when I say this. The night before Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow, Peter and I switched so that it was Peter who sold them out! Voldemort knew that I would have been James's first choice. We thought that he would never suspect Peter, as the worthless little worm he is. Voldemort would've been sure to have come after me! No one knew that Peter was really working for Voldemort. Had I known, I would never have suggested it. Peter betrayed them. He told Voldemort were they were. As if it didn't matter that they would die because of it. He killed them. And I wanted to kill him," Sirius said with the bitterness and loathing in his voice.

Albus was feeling sick. It couldn't be true… and yet… "Peter betrayed Harry's parents?" he asked softly, and wasn't surprised to find that he was whispering. Sirius nodded and looked up at him. When he did, Albus looked into his eyes, seeing truth. He saw the love that Sirius had for James and his family. The love he had for Harry and how he was determined to protect him… but…

"Unfortunately, it doesn't change anything," Albus said regretfully. "You were not placed in Azkaban for betraying James and Lily, you were placed there for the murder of Peter Pettigrew and twelve…"

"He's not dead," Sirius snarled in anger. "And I didn't kill anyone. That was all him. After I found out what happened to James and Lily… and Hagrid taking my godson from me… I just… I snapped."

"So you went after him and killed him and all the Muggles as well?" Albus said quickly.

"No, I went after _him_ to kill just _him_. That much is true," Sirius admitted. "But little Pettigrew pulled one more over me. What you don't know Dumbledore is that we are all unregistered Animagus."

And then to Albus's amazement, he transformed. Sirius's body shuddered and immediately shifted into a large form… he became a dog… the exact same dog he saw at the Quidditch match was staring up at him with sad eyes.

Albus was stunned. "Change back," he said quickly and Sirius obliged.

"Impressive," murmured Albus when he found his voice. "So you all did this? You, Peter, James, and Remus?"

"No, not Remus," Sirius shook his head. "He was the whole reason we did it in the first place. It took us three years, but we got there in the end."

Understanding dawned on him. "You did it so that you could keep him company during the full moon," he deduced. And Sirius nodded.

"We sneaked out under the cloak, and then met up with Remus in the shack. James and I could keep him under control because we were both such big animals. He even retained some of himself when he was with us. When we got bored of the shack, we started roaming the grounds, Hogsmeade, learned more of the school than anyone." He sighed, "We comforted him at those times, all three of us."

For a moment, Albus thought that Sirius was going to cry again. But he took a shuddering gasp and went on in a strong voice. "At the last minute, I had an idea that we should switch Secret-Keepers, so as to keep the Potters even safer. My brilliant plan," he added bitterly, "Was to switch to Peter. We didn't tell anyone else, for we didn't want the wrong people finding out."

"You could have told me, Sirius," Albus said, feeling numb as the pieces came together.

"I know," Sirius replied miserably. "I know! I wish I had. Then this whole mess wouldn't have happened. But please, please believe me, Albus. I never meant for the Potters to die. I would've died before I betrayed them."

"What about Peter and the street full of Muggles?" Albus questioned, determine to get all the details.

"I meant to kill Peter," snarled Sirius angrily. "I cornered him in the street, not the other way around. The little piece of vermin got the better of me, yelling for anyone to hear that I was the one who betrayed Lily and James. Then he blew up the street with the wand behind his back, and killed those twelve Muggles."

He wiped his eyes on his filthy sleeve. "That day… he cut off his own finger and made the ally way explode killing all those poor people before he transformed into a rat and escaped down into the sewers with the other rats. And just left me there to take the blame. I lost everything that day because of him. I was in shock. I couldn't handle it. I broke down and laughed, not at anything. I just snapped," Sirius's voice trailed off and he looked at his own hands turning them over and examining every point of them as if he expected to see someone else's hands attached to his wrists. Albus turned his head to watch him with a calculating gaze.

"But you escaped," Albus asked as he slowly came out of his own shock. "How did you do it? Why?"

"Azkaban only guards humans," Sirius said bitterly. "But it doesn't guard against dogs. It was easy if you think about it. I waited for them to bring me food one night and slipped past them as a dog. I was able to get outside and just jumped into the ocean."

"You mean you swam back to the mainland?" Albus asked in astonishment as he lowered his wand and took a seat to stare at him. "Azkaban's in the middle of the North Sea! Miles from anywhere! How on earth did you survive it?"

"It almost killed me," Sirius croaked out. "Almost drowned several times… and that's not counting the shock of the ice water." He shivered as if remembering it was still painful. "But I had a reason to break out… I had a reason to live."

"If it was so easy, then why didn't you do it before? Why now?" Albus asked softly, trying to figure out what to do with this new information. He looked at Sirius's gray eyes again… and he could see the journey north in his mind. The terrible journey and the determination to get here. But why? What was so important that he risk so much? "Buy why have you been trying to break into the castle? You've broken into the school twice… why, if not to kill Harry?"

"Before I didn't have a reason to escape," Sirius said, looking a little hopeful at all the questions. "I knew that everyone hated me and thought I was a murderer and if I escaped then… well, it wouldn't have helped me win any friends. I knew that Peter was still out there somewhere. But I didn't have the slightest clue where. How are you supposed to find one rat that could be anywhere? But last summer things changed. Fudge was making his rounds and he gave me his copy of the Daily Prophet."

Sirius quickly dug into the pocket of his filthy robes and smoothed out a piece of faded paper. He gave it to Albus who gave him a perplexed look. It was the clipping of the Weasleys lasts summer…

Albus stared up at him in amazement.

"The Weasleys?" he asked. "You mean to tell me that you were really looking for Ron Weasley when you came into the tower that night? But why…?"

"Look on the shoulder of the boy… Ron," Sirius explained quickly. "It's him! I recognized it as Pettigrew at once! I can't tell you how many times I've seen him transform. I knew it was him. And if you'll notice, he's missing a toe."

"A toe. Pettigrew's finger. Good Lord," breathed Albus, at last understanding washing over him in waves.

"The paper said that the boy was going back to Hogwarts. To where I knew Harry was. I had to do something! I was the only one who knew that Peter was still alive and I couldn't let Harry be in danger. Especially when the real rat that made him an orphan in the first place was around him. That's why I did it! That's why I escaped and sought out Pettigrew! That is what I was doing when I had the knife in the boy's dormitory. I would never harm Harry. He is my godson. I love him more than my own life…"

"So you came here to save Harry?" Albus asked stunned. "Not harm him. Does he know this?" Sirius nodded.

"You understand now, Albus?" asked Sirius croakily as if he hardly dared to believe it. "You understand I would never have done what I was blamed for?"

This explained a lot… Albus had always found it difficult to believe that the same man who cared about the Potters so dearly would ever had turned against them in one night. He felt his anger disappear quickly… he breathed in deeply and asked gently, "Please tell me what happened tonight."

So Sirius launched into the tale of the confrontation at the Shrieking Shack, he talked about how he had pulled Ron into the willow and how Harry and Hermione had followed them. He explained how Remus somehow found out about them and disarmed them all. How Remus then came out and confessed truth of their past and how close they all were. How Severus came bursting in and refused to listen. He then said that it was _he_ who attacked him.

Albus smiled slightly when he knew that it had been the trio who had attacked Severus. Sirius's memories betrayed that little fact. But he let that slide as Sirius then explained how they had forced Peter to show himself. How Peter had confessed to being the Secret-Keeper and betraying the Potters to Voldemort. He then talked about Remus transforming at the last minute, and Peter escaping. When he finished, Albus looked at him, sick with regret and sorrow.

"I did mean to kill Peter," Sirius muttered, finally looking away at him. "I'll admit that, it was my intention twelve years ago and I meant to do it tonight."

"Why didn't you?" Albus asked curiously. Sirius seemed so determined to avenge his friend's deaths… and yet he decided to bring him up to the castle instead? "What made you decide to bring him up to here instead of following through with your revenge?"

"Remus and I were going to kill him together, in the Shrieking Shack, but Harry stepped in. He said…" his voice broke, "He said James wouldn't have wanted us to become killers, just for Pettigrew."

Albus smiled faintly as he closed his eyes in understanding. "Yes, that does sound like him," Albus said. "And he is right. Harry has a good a heart as his parents."

Sirius suddenly seemed to remember something and looked up worriedly. "What about them? Is Harry and his friends, ok? I don't remember much more than Remus transforming."

"There wasn't any lasting damage to any of them that Madam Pomfrey cannot take care of in a day," he assured him and Sirius nodded in relief.

"Sirius, listen to me," Albus said, his own smile fading. "You understand there is nothing I can do now, don't you? I cannot overturn your sentence at this point and no one would believe you, three teenagers, and a werewolf."

Seeing the hope in Sirius's eyes fade was worse than anything. Albus felt as though someone had punched him in the gut and tears were forming at the corners of his eyes. But Sirius didn't look too stunned.

"I know," Sirius said heavily. "I can't say that I'm surprised. I didn't think that you could do anything about this. But that's not why I asked to see you. I needed to tell you that Pettigrew is out there, and he will most likely be seeking out Voldemort by now. He's a coward… now that he's been exposed, where else can he go crawling off to?"

"That seems likely. Sirius, I…" words failed Albus as guilt and grief overtook him. "I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I should've realized you would never betray James. But I was there when you were made the Secret-Keeper. I couldn't figure out how else it could've possible for Voldemort to have found them. And because I never thought to second guess myself… I have condemned you to the worst possible fate now. Please forgive me…"

"Do not blame yourself," Sirius said sullenly which only made Albus feel worse. "I understand. I hated you, but I understand now. Just…" he paused as if he was afraid of saying something. "I know there's nothing that can be done, Dumbledore… but please promise me something."

"Anything," Albus said. At that point, Albus was willing to have done anything to make amends.

"Promise me…" Sirius pleaded. "That you'll protect Harry. Please, don't let anything happen to my godson; he's more precious to me than anything else in this world. I know I'm not much of a godfather… hell, I'm probably the worst one to have ever lived! But please, please protect him for me."

"Sirius," Albus said softly, admiring Sirius for his dedication. "You couldn't be more wrong about that. But I do promise, I will protect Harry until my dying breath."

All the emotions Sirius had been holding back just came crashing down, and before he knew it, he had broken down into tears. Albus rose from his chair and went straight to him. He put his hands on his shoulders and offered words of comfort and apologized over and over again.

Once Sirius had calmed down, he looked up into his face again. "Thank you, Dumbledore," he croaked. "And tell Harry all about me, okay? The good stuff I mean; things that won't make him too ashamed to have me for a godfather. If he's anything like James, he'll be blaming himself for this when he finds out. Don't let him take this too hard. Just take care of him for me, will you? I only got a few minutes with him where he didn't think I was a murderer but those minutes just mean so much to me. Tell him how much I cared about him. Promise me that Harry will be happy and safe. Please, Dumbledore… can you do that for me?"

"Of course," Albus agreed instantly as his mind tried to figure out a way to get Sirius out of this… that was when his memories of what happened just a few hours ago came back to him. Buckbeak… the Time-Turner… Harry and Hermione…

His eyes widened as he realized what this was about. There was still a chance. It was risky… but it was the only chance they had.

"But don't give up hope just yet. There may yet be a chance for stop this. Of course," he added, "It would take a miracle. But I know of a couple students who are good at those."

Sirius looked at him doubtfully and Albus smiled kindly as he gripped his shoulder tightly. "I will do everything in my power to keep Harry safe though. You have my word."

"That's all I hope for," Sirius admitted shakily. "Please Dumbledore, keep him happy and safe for me. But I also have other request?"

Albus opened his mouth but Sirius was shaking his head fiercely.

"Don't say anything like that, Dumbledore, it will take more than a miracle for me to get out of this. But when the Ministry sends in the Dementors…" he gulped loudly and went on. "When they're finished with me… don't make me live like that. Don't make me carry on without my soul. It's all I've got left. When the Dementors are through with me please just… put an end to me." Sirius's voice choked up and he could not stop the wracking sobs that over took him.

Albus felt his own eyes tear up as he helped Sirius to stand up and embraced him tightly. "Sirius," he said gently. "I cannot tell you how sorry I am. Had I have known, I would have made sure to have gotten you a trial at least. But when I heard of all those things that you—rather that Peter had done… I thought for sure that…" he trailed off, unable to finish.

He waited until Sirius had stopped crying before he pulled away.

"I'm afraid I must go meet the Minister and Severus now," Sirius frowned distastefully at those two names, "And Harry and his friends, of course. I want to see how they are fairing and get their sides of the story." He turned to leave, but stopped. "Just a matter of curiosity, but by any chance, did James happen to transform into a stag?"

"Well, yes," Sirius said, surprised. "How did you know?"

"Harry's Patronus. I saw it twice," Albus explained softly. "I thought it very bizarre at the time. But I know that the Patronus I saw was indeed a stag."

"That's right," Sirius said reminiscently, "Prongs. That was us. Moony, that was Remus obviously, Pettigrew was Wormtail, I'm Padfoot… and James was Prongs," he finished quietly.

Albus walked over and clasped his shoulders. "Do not be afraid, Sirius. You have to be one of the bravest men I have ever known. Staying true to your promises even when anyone else would've given up long ago—" Albus remembered his sister's face in his mind's eye and how he had failed. "I'm not sure that I would've had the strength to go through it."

Sirius couldn't answer him.

"I really must leave now. I have a few things to arrange," Albus said softly, going over the plan in his head over and over again.

"Remember what I said. Tell Harry for me," Sirius called after him.

Albus stopped momentarily in the doorway and glanced out the window. "I think you'll be able to do that for yourself," he said calmly. He said nothing more, ignoring Sirius's puzzled expression, and closed the door behind him.

Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him… but Albus could've sworn he had seen a familiar grey Hippogriff swooping not too far off in the distance. He knew what to do now. He knew what needed to be done. And if he hurried then he was sure that they would pull this off.

He half walked, half ran to the Hospital Wing when at that moment he heard a familiar shout, "WHAT?"

He looked up in surprise and turned the next corner to hear the conversation coming from inside the ward.

"Harry, Harry, what's this?" said Fudge's voice. "You should be in bed — has he had any chocolate?"

"Minister, listen!" Harry's voice yelled desperately. "Sirius Black's innocent! Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can't let the Dementors do that thing to Sirius, he's —"

That was all that Albus needed to hear.

"Harry, Harry, you're very confused, you've been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we've got everything under control…"

"YOU HAVEN'T!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!"

"Minister, listen, please," Hermione's voice called just "I saw him too. It was Ron's rat, he's an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and —"

"You see, Minister?" Severus's voice said both loudly and scathingly. "Confunded, both of them… Black's done a very good job on them…"

Albus shook his head in disappointment, unable to believe how far that Severus was willing to go to get revenge.

"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!" Harry roared just as he reached the door.

"Minister! Professor!" Poppy yelled angrily. Oh, Albus forgot about Poppy. Maybe this would be more difficult than he thought. "I must insist that you leave. Potter is my patient, and he should not be distressed!"

"I'm not distressed, I'm trying to tell them what happened!" Harry's voice said furiously and Albus couldn't stand it any longer. "If they'd just listen —"

"Now, please, Minister, these children need care. Please leave."

He opened the door and as soon as he walked in, Harry cried out. "Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black —" he began but was interrupted immediately.

"For heaven's sake!" said Poppy hysterically, looking ready to tear someone's hair out. "Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster, I must insist —"

He looked at her and said as calmly as he could, but knew that they couldn't afford to wait too much longer. This had to be planned perfectly. "My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. I have just been talking to Sirius Black —"

As soon as he said Sirius's name, Severus stepped forward and looked ready for a fight. "I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted in Potter's mind?" he spat furiously. "Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive —"

"That, indeed, is Black's story," Albus told him as he turned his attention onto him. He could see the anger and hatred in Severus's face… the lust for revenge. Albus knew why. It was more than just getting revenge for some petty childhood grudges… for years, Severus believed that it had been Sirius who betrayed Lily to Voldemort and he had been determined to avenge her death.

Albus could understand that… but that was still no excuse for how he was acting.

"And does my evidence count for nothing?" Severus snarled at him. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds."

'_Well, I'm sure that it wouldn't help that you were unconscious at the time,'_ Albus thought. Apparently, Hermione Granger was thinking along those lines.

"That was because you were knocked out, Professor!" she cried out quickly. "You didn't arrive in time to hear…"

Severus turned to her and almost yelled at her, "Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!"

Albus was flabbergasted to hear that from Severus's mouth and Fudge cried out in a startled voice, "Now, Snape, the young lady is disturbed in her mind, we must make allowances —"

"I would like to speak to Harry and Hermione alone," Albus cut him off firmly. "Cornelius, Severus," he then looked apologetically at Poppy and silently hoped that she would listen without complaint, "Poppy — please leave us."

"Headmaster!" she sputtered in resentment—looking ready for an argument. "They need treatment, they need rest —"

Albus shook his head and began to feel as though he was acting for a miracle to get even just a few minutes alone with Harry and Hermione. "This cannot wait," he said, trying to _will_ them to leave. "I must insist."

Poppy looked angry, but to his great relief, she strode away and into her office—and slammed the door behind her. One problem down, now he had to get Cornelius and Severus to leave for even just a moment. Cornelius pulled out his large gold pocket watch to see what time it was.

"The Dementors should have arrived by now," he said as he crossed to the door and waited for Severus who refused to move from his spot as he glared at him, the two of them barely hearing Fudge say, "I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs."

"You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" Severus whispered to him forcefully after a few tense seconds of silence.

Albus hated having to lie to him like this, but there wasn't any other choice. "I wish to speak to Harry and Hermione alone."

Severus took a step forward, looking ready to argue for the rest of time if that was what it took.

"Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathed, as if trying to block out everyone else. "You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill me?"

Albus knew that Severus would use that justification but he would deal with Severus's anger later. "My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," he told him simply. Severus continued to look angry, but thankfully he marched out of the door closely followed by Cornelius. At long last they were alone. And he finally turned to Harry and Hermione who both tried explaining what happened.

"Professor, Black's telling the truth — we saw Pettigrew — he escaped when Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf —"

"— he's a rat —"

"— Pettigrew's front paw, I mean, finger, he cut it off —"

"— Pettigrew attacked Ron, it wasn't Sirius —"

He held up his hand to silence them. He knew the story and they were running short on time as it was. He spoke quickly and quietly, "It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time. There is not a shred of proof to support Black's story, except your word — and the word of two thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody. A street full of eyewitnesses swore they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper."

He felt his own heart throb at the thought of how much suffering he put Sirius through, but before he could say anything else, Harry cut him off. "Professor Lupin can tell you —"

"Professor Lupin is currently deep in the forest, unable to tell anyone anything," Albus reminded them with a glance at the window to see the full moon and had only realized just how dangerous this would be.

But he remembered seeing Harry and Hermione rescue Buckbeak and he could only hope that he wouldn't regret it. "By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Sirius will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends —"

He knew that this new information was sure to break through to them.

"But —" Harry began but Albus cut him off again.

"Listen to me, Harry. It is too late, you understand me? You must see that Professor Snape's version of events is far more convincing than yours."

"He hates Sirius," Hermione cried out in desperation. "All because of some stupid trick Sirius played on him —"

Albus hated to be the one to tell them this, but he needed to remind them how serious the situation was. "Sirius has not acted like an innocent man. The attack on the Fat Lady — entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife — without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Sirius's sentence."

"But you believe us," Harry began, looking at him pleadingly. And Albus replied quietly so not to draw attention to Poppy.

"Yes, I do," he assured them. "But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic…"

Harry was staring up into his face with a look that wasn't unlike the look of despair that had been on Sirius's face. As if all the hope had faded out of him. Albus wanted to comfort him, but there would be time to do that later if they could pull this off. Albus knew what he had to do. He could only hope that it would turn out for the best. "What we need," said slowly, and looked over at Hermione, trying to hint to her what it was that he wanted. "Is more time."

She looked confused for a second, "But —" before realization came over her. "OH!" she said eagerly.

Albus smiled at her, as Harry looked between them with a bewildered look on his face. "Now, pay attention," he said quickly in a low, but clear, voice—hoping that they remember it. "Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick's office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight."

Hermione could only nod as Harry continued to look at him as if he was speaking another language. Albus would leave the explaining to Hermione, but he also had to warn them—to let them know how dangerous this mission was. "But remember this, both of you: you must not be seen. Miss Granger, you know the law — you know what is at stake… You — must — not — be —seen."

Hermione's face was scared, but unwavering as he turned and headed to the door. He backed out of the room and said, as he pulled out his watch to check the time. "I am going to lock you in," he said little louder than before, hoping that the others would hear him. "It is — five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck."

He backed out of the room, closed the door, and took out his wand to magically lock it. That was when he heard the sound of running footsteps. He looked up, and a wide smile appeared as Harry and Hermione had just came running up to him, gasping for breath. "Well?" he asked quietly as he looked over them both, checking for any signs of injuries. Aside from the extra mud on the helms of their robes he couldn't see anything wrong. No injuries… nothing…

"We did it!" said Harry breathlessly, his eyes shining. "Sirius has gone, on Buckbeak…"

Albus couldn't help but beam at them as he listened for any sound from inside the room. "Well done. I think — Yes, I think you've gone too — get inside — I'll lock you in —"

He let them in, and locked the door behind them before he headed upstairs to wait for them to find out that their prisoner of Azkaban was gone.

_*Not long later*_

Albus had heard Severus yell in fury. Actually, he was sure that everyone in the castle heard Severus screaming with rage. All Albus could do was follow his fuming Potions Master, who was practically foaming at the mouth from ferocity.

Cornelius was angry as well, and he cried out furiously, "He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out —"

Albus rolled his eyes and shook his head. You would think that the Minister would've already have known that you couldn't Disapperate inside the castle.

"HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Severus roared. And Albus didn't need to even try to guess where they were all heading as Severus turned a sharp corner. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS — HAS — SOMETHING — TO — DO — WITH — POTTER!"

"Severus — be reasonable — Harry has been locked up —" Cornelius tried to enlighten to him, but it was too late. Severus reached the door of the hospital wing and pulled out his wand to cause it to burst open.

BAM.

Truthfully, Albus felt the need to laugh as they all strode in, the kids looked up at them in shock but there was also a slight hint of rebellion in their faces.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" Severus bellowed at the top of his lungs as he walked right over to stand in front of Harry's bed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Poppy, looking startled had come forward, "Professor Snape! Control yourself!"

Fudge also tried to reason with him, but Albus knew that there was no point, "See here, Snape, be reasonable. This door's been locked, we just saw —"

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Severus howled, pointing a shaking finger at Harry and Hermione. As his face became twisted and spit was flying from his mouth and Albus knew that he would have to put a stop to it before Severus did anything rash.

"Calm down, man!" Cornelius barked. "You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" Severus bellowed back, unable to stop himself. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT —"

Albus stepped forward and said, "That will do, Severus. Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" she said, glaring at Severus with amazement. "I would have heard them!"

"Well, there you have it, Severus," Albus said, fighting the urge to laugh at the outraged look on his face. Albus knew that was just about to come out and tell them how their prisoner had escaped, but he will do it in such a way that they couldn't help but discard it."Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."

Severus could only stand there, seething, before he finally whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward—and Albus knew full well that he would be cursing his name from dawn to dusk for the rest of the year.

Cornelius stared after him before he whispered to him urgently, "Fellow seems quite unbalanced. I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore."

Albus didn't have the heart to hear Fudge say such things about one of his own staff members so he answered quietly—but truthfully, "Oh, he's not unbalanced. He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

Fudge twirled his hat around in his hands and said grumpily, "He's not the only one! The Daily Prophet's going to have a field day! We had Black cornered and he slipped through our fingers yet again! All it needs now is for the story of that Hippogriff's escape to get out, and I'll be a laughingstock!"

Albus could understand that. After all, he himself was fighting hard to not to laugh at what happened here tonight as well. "Well… I'd better go and notify the Ministry…"

"And the Dementors?" he demanded quietly. "They'll be removed from the school, I trust?" Even if Fudge said no, Albus was willing to do almost anything to have them removed. If things had worked out any differently, then so many innocent souls would've been lost tonight. It was another relief when Fudge nodded his head in agreement.

He ran his fingers through his thinning hair. "Oh yes, they'll have to go. Never dreamed they'd attempt to administer the Kiss on an innocent boy…" Albus felt his heart freeze at the thought as he looked over at Harry in concern… his eyes then quickly traveled to the other two in the room as he heard Fudge say, "Completely out of control… no, I'll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight… Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance…"

"Hagrid would like that," Albus said, sending a quick smile at Harry and Hermione—who were also grinning back at him.

They both talked for a few more minutes, before Albus suggested that they go up to his office so that Poppy could get back to treating her patients—and they wouldn't have to worry about her cursing them.

As the door shut and locked again behind them, Albus knew that he would be faced with Severus's fury later, but that he could deal with. At least, the worst was over… everyone was safe and that was all that mattered.

On their way back to his office, Albus once again thought about Sirius's request to protect his godson for him should the Dementors finish him off. Albus was so thankful that things had worked out for the best. And that he couldn't think of anyone better to help protect Harry than his own godfather, Sirius Black.

He couldn't believe how good it felt to admit that again.

**(Oh, boy. I'm glad that this chapter was over. Hope you all enjoyed it and you weren't disappointed. Almost done with year three! I think one more chapter should be enough for that. And then we'll be moving to the Goblet of Fire year. Thank you… and hope I don't disappoint you.)**


	33. Difficult to Love the Dead

**Chapter 33: Difficult to Love the Dead**

Albus didn't get any sleep that night. He had argued with the Minister for several more hours about Remus's involvement, and refused to leave until he was sure that all the Dementors had been rounded up and left the grounds. The sun had already risen and students were heading down to breakfast by the time he was allowed to go to bed… but as he head back up to his office, he was mildly surprised to find that Remus was sitting there waiting for him.

Remus Lupin looked terrible. He was very pale and weak—like he usually was after every full moon—but there was also a wild, anxious look in his eyes as he looked up at him. He tried to get back up to his feet, but stumbled and almost fell.

"Remus," Albus said as he rushed forward and steadied him.

"Sirius?" he croaked at him. "Harry and the others…?"

Albus smiled kindly at him and told him to sit back down as he quickly explained what happened the night before. Once he was done, Remus gritted his teeth and gripped his hair tightly—a look of self-loathing on his face.

"This is all my fault…" he began, but Albus cut him off.

"Remus," he said firmly. "What could you have done?"

"I forgot to take my damn potion that's what!" Remus yelled out and he forced himself to stand up again. "I forgot to take it and look at what happened! I almost killed everyone last night! I could've bitten any of them!"

"It wasn't your fault, Remus," Albus said strongly, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "No one was hurt and…"

"Pettigrew escaped!" Remus shouted out as he looked ready to tear his hair out. "It was my fault! If I wasn't so stupid… if I only remembered…"

He went on like this for some time until he finally drew himself up to his full height and said, "Remus! Do you honestly think that you would've intentionally harm anyone last night?"

Remus jumped at the sudden loudness of his voice. "Well, no…"

"You had just learnt that one of your old friends was on the grounds and you went out to stop him," Albus said in a slightly softer voice. "You were in such a hurry to rush to three of my student's aid that you forgot to take a potion for yourself. For that, I am grateful. And I must remind you that no one was hurt, and Sirius had been able to escape. We now know the truth … _you_ know the truth…"

Remus shook his head. "But still…" he said as he stood up. "Still… that doesn't change the fact that many lives were in danger because of me. I can't risk it again. Headmaster… please except my resignation."

Albus knew that this would happen. But it still felt like a blow to him. "Remus," Albus said gently. "I'm sure that we can prevent this from ever happening again. I had been able to convince the Ministry that you were trying to help Harry, Ron, and Hermione last night and that the full moon had been just an unfortunate coincidence. I'm sure that we can…"

But before he could finish explaining, someone else spoke up.

"I don't think that'll work, Dumbledore."

They both looked up, or in Remus's case jumped at the sudden voice, and Phineas was there—looking bored.

"I heard it while I was visiting my other portrait that is hanging in the Slytherin common room. Young Draco Malfoy is going around telling everyone who can listen about your affliction, Lupin."

Remus, who was already pale to begin with, had gone so white that Albus thought that he was going to faint. Instead, he stood up. "What?" he croaked out as Albus looked up at Phineas and demanded, "What has happened?"

"Just like I said," Phineas yawned. "According to Malfoy, apparently Severus let slip about what you are, Lupin this morning at breakfast. So I might want to get out of here while I have the chance if I were you."

Albus felt anger boiling in the pit of his stomach. He knew how Severus reacted last night should've been enough to have told him what his Potion's Master would do… but now…

"It's for the best," croaked a voice.

For a moment, Albus thought that the voice was Phineas again, but then he realized that it had come from Remus. He looked down at his old friend and he had a feeble smile on his face. "I will pack and leave today. Looks like you have no other choice but to except my resignation now, Headmaster."

"Remus," Albus began but Remus shook his head. "No, it's for the best. I could've bitten any one of those kids last night. I can't risk something like that ever happening again. If you could call a carriage for me, Headmaster—I will be grateful. I'll leave and start packing right now."

Albus tried several more brave attempts to talk Remus out of it… but he might as well been talking to the wall for all the good it did. Finally, he sighed and nodded.

"I'll have a word about this with Severus," he promised as he helped Remus to stand up again. "You must believe me when I tell you how sorry I am about this, Remus."

"That's alright," Remus replied with a rather weak attempt at optimism. "I guess that a steady, well-paying job that I love doing just wasn't destined for me. But, nonetheless, thank you for giving me the job in the first place," he said slowly. "I'm glad that I did… it was wonderful to see Harry again. And Sirius…"

He watched as Remus left… yet, despite all that had gone wrong; Albus could see a tiny glimmer of happiness in his former student's face. Remus wasn't alone anymore… Sirius was back, and that was all that mattered. Maybe Remus would be alright after all…

_*Later*_

"Dumbledore?" Minerva's voice rang out.

"Yes, Minerva?" he asked politely as he looked up from his letter at his office door. "Come in."

Professor McGonagall stuck her head in his office and said, "The carriage just arrived… for Remus…" Albus could hear the sadness in her voice and chuckled slightly. If he ever quoted her on this, he knew that she would deny it… but Remus had always been one of her most favorite students."

Albus nodded and thanked her as he got up from his desk and straight for Remus's office to inform him. But as he got up to the right level, he saw Everard looking at him from a portrait of a hippopotamus on the savanna. He raised his eyebrows at him and Everard answered, "Potter's visiting Lupin."

Albus nodded, not at all surprised to have heard that, and continued his way to the office door. He could hear Harry's voice now in fact…

"You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would've wanted to lure me out of school… you said they'd have thought it was funny."

"And so we would have," Albus then heard Remus speak, a hint of a smile in his voice. "I have no hesitation in saying that James would have been highly disappointed if his son had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle."

Albus smiled—knowing how true that was. He knew that James Potter would've been rolling in his grave if his only son never found any secret passageways. He sighed as he knocked on the door and walked in. He looked first at Harry—who was looking cheerless—before glancing at Remus.

"Your carriage is at the gates, Remus," he informed him soberly.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Remus said softly as he quickly picked up his old suitcase and the empty tank that he used for class. Remus, acting as if Albus wasn't here, turned back to Harry, and he could see the sadness in his eyes.

Albus knew that Remus saying goodbye to Harry would've been more painful than to anyone else in the castle. "Well — good-bye, Harry," Remus said with a forced smiled. "It has been a real pleasure teaching you. I feel sure we'll meet again sometime." He then turned back to Albus, and he could see the sorrow in his eyes, but also painful acceptance. "Headmaster, there is no need to see me to the gates, I can manage…"

Albus nodded, but he wasn't fooled. He knew Remus long enough to know that he was only scared that he would be able to find some way of making him stay. He tried to sound cheerful and understanding, but his voice couldn't hide the sober tone, "Good-bye, then, Remus." He walked forward to shake his hand and watched as Remus took one last look at Harry…

And then he was gone.

Albus sighed once more as he watched Remus walk down the long corridor before he turned the corner and was out of his sights. Shaking his head, he was about to walk out as well, when he noticed that Harry was now sitting in the empty chair looking dejected. Concerned, he walked over to the door and closed it before he turned back to the boy.

He then asked, "Why so miserable, Harry? You should be very proud of yourself after last night."

Harry looked back at him and said in a bitter tone, "It didn't make any difference. Pettigrew got away."

Albus couldn't believe his ears. Had Harry forgotten everything that happened last night? How many innocent lives that had been saved because of him? "Didn't make any difference?" he asked in his quiet voice, "it made all the difference in the world, Harry. You helped uncover the truth. You saved an innocent man from a terrible fate."

Harry's eyes suddenly widened in horror and he looked up at him. But before Albus could ask what was wrong, Harry said urgently, "Professor Dumbledore — yesterday, when I was having my Divination exam, Professor Trelawney went very — very strange."

Strange? To be honest, he knew Sybill had been strange since the day he met her. "Indeed?" he asked, wondering where he was going with this. "Er — stranger than usual, you mean?"

"Yes…" Harry went on quickly. "Her voice went all deep and her eyes rolled and she said… she said Voldemort's servant was going to set out to return to him before midnight… She said the servant would help him come back to power. And then she sort of became normal again, and she couldn't remember anything she'd said. Was it — was she making a real prediction?"

As the teenage boy stared up at him, Albus had another flashback of the prophecy he heard so long ago… _neither can live while the other survives. _

Doing his best to hide this he said—now deeply impressed, "Do you know, Harry, I think she might have been. Who'd have thought it? That brings her total of real predictions up to two." Albus had to admit that it wasn't just a onetime fluke with Sybill. Apparently she _could_ see the future only when something major was about to happen. Maybe this was why she loved predicting death and misfortune so much. "I should offer her a pay raise…"

"But — " Harry began, looking at him like he thought that he didn't understand. "But — I stopped Sirius and Professor Lupin from killing Pettigrew! That makes it my fault if Voldemort comes back!"

Albus shook his head. Yes, Harry was growing up fast—but there were still some things that he was too young to understand. He interrupted quietly, "It does not. Hasn't your experience with the Time-Turner taught you anything, Harry? The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed… Professor Trelawney, bless her, is living proof of that…" Which was only to true… Sybill was indeed, one of a kind.

"You did a very noble thing, in saving Pettigrew's life," he finished. _'As well as astounding…'_ he then added to himself. Harry might not see it, but he was someone truly special. Not just magically, but with his sympathy and kindness—his gift of understanding. Albus had watched this young boy prove himself time and time again how strong he was—not physically, but strength of heart.

To have saved the very man who betrayed his parents and helped make him an orphan; to have saved the life of a cowardly man who foolishly chose wrong over right… and is the reason that Harry will never know his own parents…

This was the exact kind of person who Voldemort would never have a hope to defeat. To find someone so kind, compassionate, and understanding as this boy—especially after everything he had been through…

Albus knew, perhaps from the beginning, that this child was a far better man than he, himself, had ever been.

Harry didn't seem to be thinking about that however.

"But if he helps Voldemort back to power…"

"Pettigrew owes his life to you," Albus answered. "You have sent Voldemort a deputy who is in your debt… When one wizard saves another wizard's life, it creates a certain bond between them… and I'm much mistaken if Voldemort wants his servant in the debt of Harry Potter."

"I don't want a connection with Pettigrew!" Harry said hotly. "He betrayed my parents!"

Albus looked at him gently. He knew that somewhere inside Peter Pettigrew, was the man who had once been James's friend. He didn't know exactly what had happened with his former student, or why he went to Voldemort in the first place. But how can you betray someone you once cared about so easily? You cannot simply forget everything you know about someone and turn your heart against them like that.

At least, not that easily. He suspected that somewhere deep inside Peter, there was regret. Regret that things had turned out the way that they had. He knew and hoped that Peter would recognize that someday, and return the favor.

"This is magic at its deepest, its most impenetrable, Harry," he then went on. "But trust me… the time may come when you will be very glad you saved Pettigrew's life."

Harry continued to look doubtful and for a moment, Albus considered that maybe now would be the right time to tell him…

'_Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day... put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know.'_

No. He could let it go a little longer… let the boy enjoy what little peace he had left.

"I knew your father very well, both at Hogwarts and later, Harry," Albus went on. "He would have saved Pettigrew too, I am sure of it."

Harry looked up at him and said almost scared, "I thought it was my dad who'd conjured my Patronus. I mean, when I saw myself across the lake… I thought I was seeing him."

"An easy mistake to make," he said gently. "I expect you'll tire of hearing it, but you do look _extraordinarily_ like James. Except for the eyes… you have your mother's eyes."

Albus could see that. He _did_ look like James… it was almost like seeing him again. But Lily's eyes… it was almost like Lily's heart was inside of James's body. Harry Potter truly was something different…

Harry shook his head again and said, "It was stupid, thinking it was him. I mean, I knew he was dead."

Albus felt his own heart ache for a moment. That was something else he knew too well. He knew how hard it is. The struggle to keep faith with the dead isn't easy. The reason it's so difficult to love the dead is that it's hard to believe that they love you. They can no longer explain their actions or confess their love, and it's easy to believe that they are simply gone, past caring about or loving anyone.

"You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that _particular_ Patronus? Prongs rode again last night."

Harry looked up in amazement and Albus answered the questioning look with a smile, "Last night Sirius told me all about how they became Animagi. An extraordinary achievement — not least, keeping it quiet from me."

That alone, was an extraordinary achievement. He had once thought that he knew everything that went on in the castle. But only now he realized just how little he did know… and how much he needed to learn. He then remembered something else, and said, "And then I remembered the most unusual form your Patronus took, when it charged Mr. Malfoy down at your Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. You know, Harry, in a way, you did see your father last night… You found him inside yourself."

He left after that; knowing that it would be for the best if he left Harry alone for now. But as he walked away from the closed door, he thought back to the small child that he had spoke with almost three years ago…

"_Sir – Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"_

"_Obviously, you have just done so. You may ask me one more thing, however."_

"_What do you see when you look in the mirror?" _

"_I? I see myself holding a pair of thick woollen socks."_

Albus smiled grimly as he thought back to that night. It hurt when he learned what Harry had seen in the mirror. He remembered just how much Lily and James had loved their son, and the dear boy had never known that love.

Or any love for that matter. Albus was aware of how Petunia treated her nephew. He knew that Harry was neglected and unloved in that house. He had hoped that it would change over time, but it saddened him greatly to see that it hadn't. And yet the amount of love he had in his heart, despite the cruelness he had suffered at the hands of his relatives, was stunning.

But he felt uneasy… that little innocence and naivety that remained inside him was quickly fading… he didn't want to see it disappear before it was necessary. But at the same time, he knew with a heavy heart that the time would come…

_*Later that day*_

"Severus?" Albus called loudly, giving several loud knocks on the door to his potion master's office. He hadn't seen Severus since his scene last night—and knew that he was most likely sulking. This wasn't going to be enjoyable in the slightest.

"Severus? I'm coming in," he announced, and walked in. Sure enough, sulking in an armchair in the dark—was Severus Snape—and he looked furious.

"Severus?" Albus carefully approached him.

Severus glared at him with his bloodshot eyes.

"Oh, Severus," Albus sighed, bracing for the worst.

"Don't talk to me," Snape hissed at him viciously, his face contorted with rage. And suddenly he was on his feet and yelling, "YOU LET HIM GO! YOU HELPED POTTER SET HIM FREE!"

When Albus did not reply, Severus went on fuming, "That brat! You're always on his side! After all the harm he's done?"

"Harm?" Albus asked politely. "It seems more to me that he's done more good than harm."

Severus was breathing hard through his teeth as he sat back down in his chair and continued to mark the exam papers so violently that he almost tore a few in half.

Albus shook his head as he watched him. "Severus. Just how far are you willing to go? If you hadn't been so obsessed with revenge and listened to their story…" Albus shook his head—so much harm could've been avoided. "You nearly sentence an innocent man to a terrible fate, Severus! And for what? Revenge? Haven't the four of them paid enough? And now Remus has been forced to leave because you refuse to grow up. He can barely find employment anywhere due to his condition and he has been forced to leave a job that he dearly loves doing… and for what?"

Severus stopped marking the papers for a moment as he froze, but then sneered, refusing to look up at him. Albus then went on, "I knew you were spiteful, Severus, but I'm shocked at what you will do to get revenge!"

Severus glared at him coldly as Albus explained who it was who had _really_ betrayed the Potters to Voldemort.

"And you believe that?" he snarled at him

Albus raised his eyebrows. "You honestly think that Sirius could've fooled me like that, Severus? I didn't need to see into his mind to know that his words were sincere."

Albus stopped here and watched as Severus fought to keep his breath level.

"Severus," Albus continued to Severus gently. "I care for you as I do for all my students… whether they are former or current. But I will _not_ stand this behavior of yours. It is disgusting and far beneath you to sink so far to get back at someone. You are better than this. Why were you so desperate for Sirius to pay even if it risked ruining your own soul?"

"I thought he was Lily's killer," Severus answered at once. "The only evidence I had otherwise was a bunch of trouble-making kids and the werewolf saying that he was innocent! What was I supposed to think?"

"Then why not at least hear them out before you risk making a huge mistake?" Albus asked his softly. "Severus, it is time let go and move on with your life. You and I both now know that Sirius Black never murdered or betrayed anyone. Do not allow petty childhood grudges to run your life. Imagine, for a just a moment, that you had succeeded in handing Sirius over to the dementors. Imagine that they'd performed the kiss. Picture it—an innocent man who's soul sucked out. How does that make you feel?"

Severus glared up at Albus, "He deserves it!"

Albus gave him a sad and disappointed look. "And what of Remus? After Sirius escaped, you exposed Remus as being a werewolf to the entire school. What on earth possessed you to do such a thing?"

Severus closed his eyes. "I don't know what you mean, Headmaster," he answered quietly, his voice full of suppressed anger.

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about," Albus said harshly. "Instead of feeling sorry for yourself, imagine what it must be like to be unable to hold a job due to an unjust childhood illness that has plagued him his whole life? Being hated and feared for things that he has no control over?"

"You realize that Lupin tormented me as much as Potter and Black did!" Severus began but Albus held up his hand to silence him.

"While I think that I already know the answer," Albus scolded. "Please, tell me why you felt the need to expose Remus as you did."

"After last night, I feel that it would be for the best if parents knew as well—for their own children's safety!" Severus snapped. "Don't you think they deserve to know that a werewolf is teaching their children?"

Albus's eyes narrowed. "Severus…?" he said in a warning voice.

Severus stared hotly at him before he hissed, "I was angry, alright?"

Albus sighed and closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them again he said, his voice full of disappointment, "And so you sought to cost a man his job because you were angry? I see…"

Severus shifted uncomfortably in his own chair, but didn't lose the angry look.

"What were you thinking, then?" Albus lectured. "What you fail to see is how your behavior affects so many people. It pains me greatly to see you act this way, Severus. I won't stand by while you ruin your life and the lives of others… such as doing your best to make Harry's life miserable as well…"

Severus opened his mouth again but Albus went on.

"I wonder if you realize that you are more alike with young Harry than you think," he asked. "If I recall correctly, you and James spent most of your time trying to get back at each other. Neither one of you are innocent. And I certainly don't recall either of you reporting anything to me and therefore I wasn't able to help but a stop to it. No matter how much you hate them, you shouldn't continue to be so hateful to the students. You certainly didn't like being bullied and humiliated when you were a student… why do you do the same now to others?"

"Why are you always so determined to lecture and tell me off?" Severus demanded coldly.

"Severus," Albus sighed wearily. "Listen to yourself. You sound almost exactly as you did back when _you_ were a child. You're still trying to blame James for everything that has gone wrong in your life. This is exactly a terrible flaw with you, Severus. You are still a child in many ways and not only do you not _want_ to let go of your past, but you _refuse_ to do so. In a way, the castle here reminds me of your heart. A strong object that is surrounded with barriers and walls… it's not an excuse."

"They all got away with almost killing me! You never punished them…" Severus almost yelled.

"Got away?" Albus asked sadly, staring at him hard. "How could they? Look at what has happened to them all. While you have suffered greatly Severus, you were safe here in the school that you love so dearly. But look at how they all suffered… James is dead, Sirius was imprisoned in Azkaban for a crime he didn't do, Remus had spent so many years alone—struggling to find work and Peter Pettigrew was forced to hide in fear as a rat. And here we have you… tormenting a child who had nothing to do with any of that. Why?" Albus asked him in an almost earnest way. "Haven't they all paid enough? Hasn't Harry suffered enough for what his father had done to you?"

Severus frown at him.

"Severus," Albus said, folding his hands together. "I know that it is fruitless to attempt to change your mind about Harry. However Harry is a remarkable boy—this is the truth, even if you don't see that Severus… I wish I could help you, but unless you learn to let go of this bitterness, learn to forgive and…"

"Forgive?" Sirius spat. "You might as have just asked me to drink my own poisons!"

Albus sighed again. "But some poisons can become antidotes if applied correctly, Severus. I don't know how many times we have to discuss this… but I am asking you to learn to see what you have. All I ask is that you stop looking for someone to take your revenge on. What more could you want from them, Severus? What more could they possibly sacrifice for you to be satisfied?"

Severus didn't move… he didn't speak. He just continued to glower at him as Albus turned and left the office.

"Oh," he added as he reached the doorway and looked back at the exam papers sitting on the desk. "Should you mark anyone unfairly, I will know it."

_*End of the year*_

The rest of the school year passed quickly and quietly—much to Albus's relief. Now that Sirius was free and the Dementors were removed—he felt as if a great weight had been lifted of his shoulders. He had contacted Sirius only once since his escape. He knew how dangerous it would be for Sirius if he were to send owls back and forth. But the letter he did receive did sound as if he was enjoying his new found freedom. And he had also added a little something extra:

_**I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends. **_

When Albus read that, he couldn't help but smile as he made a mental note to tell Minerva. This should indeed cheer Harry up, and hopefully make the next year more enjoyable for them both. He then turned to one of the many letters talking about the Triwizard Tournament that was to take place. Albus was more than willing for it to take place again; especially after the prophecy that Sybill foretold…

If Voldemort was going to rise again, they would need all the support and friendships they could get. Bringing the three schools together and making them stronger seemed like a good start.

He yawned widely as he checked his watch to see that the train has just left.

He sighed in relief again as he leaned back in his seat, his eyes closed. Another year was over—and he was given two months of peace… though that might not stay that way with all the planning for the tournament.

"You seem tired, Dumbledore," said the wheezy voice of Armando Dippet.

Albus smiled and opened his eyes to look up at Armando. "I'm just relieved that the year is over," he answered truthfully.

"Of course," Armando said as he stretched out his arms. "You must be tired after a year like this one."

"Pffft," grunted Phineas and Albus looked over at the Slytherin Headmaster.

"Is there something you wish to say, Phineas?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing," he said tightly. "I was more curious if you worked up the guts to tell Potter about that prophecy. I'm getting sick of all this 'checking up on him' for you."

Albus's sleepy mood vanished almost instantly and several portraits told Phineas off.

"What do you have to complain about?" Dilys asked crossly. "You never do anything!"

"I have better things to do with my spare time than follow a child around the school all day!"

"Really?" Dexter asked sarcastically. "And name one thing interesting you do."

"I don't have to answer myself to the likes of you!" Phineas retorted snidely.

Albus stood up so suddenly that the arguing stopped. "No, Phineas," he answered grimly. "I haven't told him. I believe that Harry will be better off if he is not burdened with this so early in his life. The longer he can believe that he is a normal young wizard, and then I think it would be worth it in the end." He turned his gaze out the window to the shadowy castle grounds. "For us all."

'_I hope I am wrong,'_ he thought to himself as he left the office, stopping only to grab his traveling cloak. _'I hope that I am thinking too much about this… worrying too much… in my old age. I pray that Harry will not have to face Tom again for many more years. When he is older and wiser…'_

He went to the owlery to send his letters to Barty Crouch, Ludo Bagmand, Madam Maxime, and Karkaroff before he left the castle. There was someplace that he needed to see.

_*Godric's Hallow*_

A wrinkled hand gently set two large bouquets of flowers on a large, marble grave stone. Albus then sat back on his knees, his old bones rubbing dolefully together as he stared at the grave for a long time; tears trailed down a face long riddled with lines of grieve and guilt, landing in his beard.

He reached out and traced the letters that were engraved there so long ago:

_Where your treasure is, there will be your heart also._

Those words he chose himself… as punishment.

He had those words put there to remind him how he had forever lost his treasure. To teach him never to be so foolish again—to never take anything for granted again.

His tears slid faster down his face as Albus thought about his younger sister, his father and mother. He had betrayed them… in one of the worse possible ways. Yes, he had dreams and ambitions when he was younger… but that's all that they would ever be.

Dreams and fantasies.

Even as a teenager he should've seen that. Everything else seemed so insignificant when you already lost everything—everyone you loved. As a wise Muggle once said, _you don't realize how precious someone is to you… until you lose them._

Gripping the stone tightly, the stream of tears began to fall harder. Albus knew he would never be forgiven for any of the wrongs he had done to his own family. So, he made sure he never forgot. It served as a sort of self-punishment.

Albus never stopped loving his family, no matter what his plans had been or what he had done. He hoped that wherever his parents and sister were—they were happy and knew how sorry he was. If not, he would tell him himself… and they would hopefully be able to forgive him someday.

He never did find out who it had been who did it.

He never knew who it had been who took Ariana's life in the end. It could've been any one of them… he could remember from that day so long ago their wands slashing through the air, the house slowly being torn apart. The shouting… curses flying… the roof starting to cave in around them once the battle finally ended… and her eyes…

Once the smoke cleared, he had heard his brother call out in pain.

Everything stopped then as he looked to see Aberforth clutching Ariana's body to him. And his wand fell onto the broken floor with a loud clatter.

Albus hardly noticed. At least he didn't see his friend leave. His friend, the great intellectual, who he had helped with so many plans in store; to find the Hollows and rule over Muggles and wizards alike. All their research and plans meant nothing to him anymore as he realized how his obsession took someone he loved away from him for good.

Grindelwald could always come back. He knew that he would see Grindelwald again one day…

But Ariana… never again…

Albus didn't know how long he and his brother stood there, staring at Ariana's staring eyes—lifeless—like a doll's. Albus had been unable to tear his gaze from his little sister's empty blue eyes.

Eyes that had haunted him every day since then.

Albus dried his own blue eyes on his sleeve. He understood Harry's fear that the dead no longer cared. He knew that pain better than anyone.

"But I will never forget you," he promised into the wind as he reached out to touch Ariana's name once again.

**(The end of another year. So sad… Dumbledore, you are pretty much the coolest cat on the planet. Well, now we are finally moving on to the Goblet of Fire. Question for you all? Does anyone else think that Dumbledore went to the world cup but left before the riot began? Should I put that in, or just start right off at the beginning of the year at the welcoming feast? Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! And thank you all!)**


	34. Dark Signs

**Chapter 34: Dark Signs**

Albus Dumbledore was once again staring outside the familiar window at the deserted Quidditch pitch. The castle always felt that it had lost some of its magic whenever it was empty. While glad he was for summer break, he sometimes wished it didn't last so long. He missed the constant footsteps of the students trampling through the hallways as they talked loudly with their friends—he missed watching them enjoy themselves on the grounds outside… he even missed watching the teams practice from the Quidditch pitch—the Gryffindors training every second of the day… he chuckled to himself. Well, the players wouldn't have to worry about that for this year.

The students were all going to be for quite a surprise.

With a rather tired smile as he turned away from the brilliant sunset, back to look at his office. It was almost a relief to him that the students would be returning tonight. He walked almost lazily around his desk as he became lost in thought once more. He had been hard at work all summer, constantly sending letters back and forth with the Ministry, Madame Maxime, and Karkaroff. He had been so busy planning the tournament that he had to turn down Fudge's request to attend the World Cup; something that he had been looking forward to. But it couldn't be helped.

So to make himself feel better, he offered the invitation to Minerva, who happily accepted. He chuckled at how excited—though she tried to hide it—when he had given his invitation to her. But that happy memory didn't last long as he suddenly went down a spiral of troubling thoughts. He gazed anxiously at the newspaper he had received almost a month ago. He had read this paper at least a hundred times already and knew it by heart, but still, he found himself going over it again and again—hoping for some kind of clue.

It had only been a couple months since Wormtail escaped, but things seemed to be going from bad to worst. First, Bertha Jorkins disappeared in Albania—the place where Voldemort was rumored to be… and then not long after Bertha disappeared, he had read one of the Muggle newspapers to discover that a man—Frank Bryce—had also disappeared in the village where Voldemorts parents once lived… and now this… he picked up the old paper and stared at the faded cover.

**SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP**, and there on the front cover was the Dark Mark over the treetops of a forest.

This couldn't be a case of mere coincidence as he opened it for the hundredth time and read:

'_If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' _

The article went on like this for a time, but Albus was shaking his head in exasperation. He had heard from Arthur Weasley that no one had been hurt aside from those poor Muggles that the Death Eaters tortured. Thankfully, they were rescued and had their memories modified for their own good. Some things really are better left forgotten.

But this paper was the one who started the rumors. Young Rita Skeeter was going to get herself into trouble one day if she wasn't more careful.

Groaning slightly, he got up from his seat, deciding to stretch his stiff legs and to clear his head, he left. But almost as soon as he stepped outside the gargoyle, he spotted Severus walking down the corridor towards him. But as soon as Severus looked up and spotted him, he gave him a very dark look and turned around to walk in the opposite direction. Guessing what this was about, Albus sped up to walk alongside him.

"Good evening, Severus?" Albus said politely as he fell into step besides him.

Severus didn't reply; he didn't even look at him—stubbornly keeping his head staring in front of him.

"I hope that you had an enjoyable break?" Albus went on, still polite.

"Not that it is any of your business," he hissed back. "I spent it the same way I do every year. Now what do you want?"

Albus was shaking his head. He had hoped that after he had explained the situation to Severus and let him think it over on his own over the summer, then maybe his potion's master would be able to let it go. But he knew that he had gotten his hopes up to high. He looked at Severus seriously for a moment. "I can see that you—ah… still disagree with me in regards to Sirius Black."

Severus let out a snort. "That would be an hefty understatement. Sirius Black has proved himself capable of murder while he was here at school!" He stopped walking and turned to glare at him. "Why did he slash the portrait, then? Why was he looming over Weasley in the middle of the night with a knife? How did he even escape in the first place? Even I don't know a spell that would allow one to sneak past Dementors."

"Severus… we've been over this before," Albus began wearily.

"And after everything he's done, after everything he has put us through last year," Severus went on as if he hadn't heard him, "You helped Potter set him free! On what? Only _on his word_?"

Albus gave him a hard stare. "Strange… I seem to recall Alastor Moody saying the exact same thing to me about you."

Severus froze and closed his mouth. Albus sighed, still unhappy that he couldn't make Severus see just how much he and Sirius had in common—show him that he didn't have to hold on to the past anymore. But then again, Severus hadn't acted as Sirius had…

"Severus, I know there is little I can say to change your opinion. I believe Sirius for the same reasons I believed you when you came to me fifteen years ago. Because the words he spoke of were sincere and came from his heart. While I agree that his actions last year didn't help to convince us of his innocence, but remember that he has been locked up in Azkaban prison for twelve years. Would you have been able to act rationally if you were in his position?"

Albus was disappointed with Severus, but he also regretted the fact that he couldn't appease Severus. But he knew how important it was for second chances. Severus turned his entire life around after he placed Lily Potter in danger, becoming Voldemort's most trusted servant so that he could spy on him and protect Harry. Something that Albus will always be grateful for. Albus himself had learned this long ago the hard way… this is why he has retained so tolerant for others' mistakes and why he believed that love is a powerful motivator—capable of redeeming a person's worst misdeeds.

"I know that for a long time you have held the belief that Sirius and his friends tried to kill you, but that was not the case and you know it. It was solely Sirius's doing—and you should've known better not to have taken his word seriously. Even if you cannot believe that James was not involved, you should at least forgive Remus Lupin, who you have deprived of a job last year." His words turned cold and Severus seemed to have shrunk a little where he stood. "It will be almost impossible for him to ever find a job again so that you could find a way to get back at him for something he wasn't involved in. Had you not insisted on getting revenge and listened to their story, why… we might've prevented Wormtail—the true traitor from escaping as well as Remus being forced to leave."

Severus glowered at him.

Albus sighed again and when he spoke it was with finality. "While, I don't blame you, Severus—I want you to understand that each of our choices will have a consequence. I trust you, Severus, and I value your opinion. But in this case you did not have all the evidence. All I can ask is that you, in turn, trust me."

He walked on, leaving Severus behind… hoping that he got through to him that time.

_*That Evening at the Feast*_

Albus had gone down to Great Hall just minutes before the students arrived. He could hear the thunder and storm raging outside and knew that they were all going to be soaked to the bone by the time they got inside—he had to set some Quick-Drying Charms around the hall to ensure that their clothes would all dry quickly and warm them up before any of them would have to go to Madame Pomfrey for a Pepper-up potion. He didn't think that they should have to start off the new school year sick. But just as he finished, and took his seat he heard an angry voice shouting: "PEEVES!"

Surprised, he looked up to see that Minerva—who was just come out from the side chamber to where the first years were undoubtedly where and went running out of the hall.

"Peeves, come down here at ONCE! Peeves, get down here NOW!"

"Not doing nothing!" he heard Peeves cackle from outside, and suddenly he heard screaming and a group of soaking wet girls ran into the Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!"

"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Minerva furiously as Albus watched as more students run in. "I'm warning you, Peeves -"

He heard the sounds of water splashing and then he heard Minerva yelling forcefully, "Well, move along, then!" Albus couldn't help himself and smiled fondly. What would he do without her here? "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

He leaned back comfortably as they everyone came in and went to their tables. Albus looked up and smiled a little bit wider when he saw the trio come in and sit near the Gryffindor ghost, Nicolas. Harry, looking angry, was emptying the water from his sneakers as he said something to his friends.

Smiling, he put the tips of his fingers together and rested his chin upon them as he stared up at the ceiling, allowing his thoughts to stray. It had been a long time since he saw the weather as bad as it is now. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it. A storm was coming…

But he wasn't just talking about the one raging outside. He thought back to that little boy who once attended class just like these ones here.

Ever since Albus became one, he has been first and foremost a teacher. He has been at Hogwarts for years, and he's dedicated his life to teaching children… but he understood that he couldn't solve everything.

He remembered sadly that night so long ago when Tom had returned to the castle and requested a job here. Thinking back to that night, it was almost as if the two of them were playing an imaginary chess game, asking each other questions and tried to catch the other off guard. He knew what Tom wanted and didn't want to beat around the bush anymore.

_"Let us speak openly. Why have you come here tonight, surrounded by henchmen, to request a job we both know you do not want?" _

He went straight to the heart of the matter and asked for the truth. He knew the antidote for Voldemort's deceptive powers. He knew how to put the pieces of the puzzle together and to understand what exactly Voldemort wants…

And yet he still couldn't stop it from happening.

_"No, nothing. The time is long gone when I could frighten you with a burning wardrobe and force you to make repayment for your crimes. But I wish I could, Tom… I wish I could…"_

Something that he wished to this day.

Albus's couldn't help but feel responsible for Tom. As a teacher, he had wanted to help him, he wanted him to find happiness and goodness, but he discovered that his powers as both wizard and teacher weren't enough.

When Tom first arrived at Hogwarts, Albus did not inform the faculty of Tom's odd ways or of his troubled past at the orphanage. He had decided to give Tom another chance, a chance to start over. But because of this choice, Tom was given free rein to build himself up as Voldemort. He was given access to the education and the resources that would teach him how to use and wield his powers. Albus didn't know if there is anyone who has powers enough to help Voldemort start over; but he knew that it was far too late.

He looked down in time to see the doors of the Great Hall opened and Minerva leading the usual long line of first years up towards them. He smiled at them all, for the poor things looked more like they had been forced to swim across the lake rather than sail.

Each of them was looking around nervously—well all of them except the smallest of them who was wearing Hagrid's overcoat. If Albus had to guess, the boy must've fallen into the lake. The child was so small, and the coat so big that it was almost funny to see the little boy dragging it with him. But his small face was looking around with wonder and excitement. When he had lined up with his future classmates, he looked over at the Gryffindor table and gave Colin Creevey a double thumbs-up, and mouthed.

Albus chuckled. Ah, yes. He heard that young Mr. Creevey's brother was going to start this year. It only made sense that he was as excited about magic as his brother had been. It warmed his heart to see that.

Minerva had reappeared with the three-legged stool and the Sorting Hat. Once she put it onto the stool, the first years looked at it in confusion, as they all waited. For a moment, nothing happened. And then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

_A thousand years or more ago, _

_When I was newly sewn, _

_There lived four wizards of renown, _

_Whose names are still well known: _

_Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor, _

_Fair Ravenclaw, from glen, _

_Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad, _

_Shrewd Slytherin, from fin. _

_They shared a wish, a hope, a dream, _

_They hatched a daring plan _

_To educate young sorcerers _

_Thus Hogwarts School began. _

_Now each of these four founders _

_Formed their own house, for each _

_Did value different virtues _

_In the ones they had to teach. _

_By Gryffindor, the bravest were _

_Prized far beyond the rest; _

_For Ravenclaw, the cleverest _

_Would always be the best; _

_For Hufflepuff, hard workers were _

_Most worthy of admission; _

_And power-hungry Slytherin _

_Loved those of great ambition. _

_While still alive they did divide _

_Their favorites from the throng, _

_Yet how to pick the worthy ones _

_When they were dead and gone? _

'_Twas Gryffindor who found the way, _

_He whipped me off his head _

_The founders put some brains in me _

_So I could choose instead! _

_Now slip me snug about your ears, _

_I've never yet been wrong, _

_I'll have a look inside your mind _

_And tell where you belong! _

Everyone applauded loudly as the Sorting Hat bowed low to each of the Houses and sat still, waiting patiently on its stool. Minerva unrolled the scroll of parchment and called out, "When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table! Ackerley, Stewart!"

A small boy with thick, golden hair walked forward, shaking terribly as he picked up the Sorting Hat and sat down on the stool. After about 15 seconds the hat called out, "RAVENCLAW!"

Stewart took replaced the hat and hurried into a seat at the clapping Ravenclaw table. Minerva nodded her head as she looked back towards the list!

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

A thin boy walked forward and waited a few more seconds before the hat called out:

"SLYTHERIN!"

Slytherin House began to clap loudly. And so it went. Albus leaned back and watched with a smile on his face as he watched them all be sorted.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

Ah, he was looking forward to seeing this one as he watched the small boy staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's coat. At that moment, he heard heavy footsteps and looked to his side to see Hagrid slipping into the Hall. He gave him a smile and looked back at the child; if he was anything like his brother then…

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted. Albus chuckled as he watched the little boy, who was grinning widely, almost threw the hat off his head and ran over to join his brother.

He watched Dennis go up to his brother and talk excitedly for a few moments. Colin then pointed to Harry who was now watching Emma Dobbs sorted into Hufflepuff, and Dennis's eyes widened in amazement. Albus shook his head slightly as he waited for the sorting to finish.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

And finally, when Whitby, Kevin! Had been sorted into Hufflepuff, Minerva picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.

Albus smiled even wider still as he got up and opened his arms wide in welcome. For a moment he wondered if he should explain everything now, but looking at the starving expressions on the student's faces, he knew that it would be best to wait. So instead he told them all in his deepest voice, "I have only two words to say to you. _Tuck in_."

And no one needed to be told twice. He sat back down and just as he was cutting into his steak, Minerva had returned, looking tired and ill-tempered. Though he had a good idea to what it was about he leaned in and asked, "Do you mind if I ask what happened out there?"

"Peeves again, Headmaster," she responded stiffly. "He's upset about not being allowed to join the feast."

Albus had a feeling that's what it was about.

"Well, as much as I enjoy Peeves's company, I cannot convince myself that allowing him to join us would be a good idea," Albus said knowing that the poltergeist can't resist starting a food fight every time he saw food. Just a few hours ago, he had almost destroyed the kitchens and had terrified the House-elves. Luckily everything was sorted out just in time.

He was enjoying himself for the first time in weeks as the students talked and laughed with each other—occasionally he would say something to one of his teachers while they listened to the rain beat against the glass. Once in awhile the thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the whole Hall. Personally, Albus preferred to think that storms were just a part of nature's own branch of magic.

Once everyone had finished their dessert, Albus got to his feet again. Everyone became silent when he looked around at them all, smiling once again. "So!" he called out loudly. "Now that we are all fed and watered. I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

He fought a laugh, knowing full well that people only looked at that list to see what was forbidden and still bring them in to torment Argus. Funnily enough, before the Weasley twins arrived in their first year, the list had only been one hundred and eleven items… Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Weasley twins grinning at each other.

He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

He knew that not everyone was going to take kindly to that. He supposed that it was lucky that Oliver Wood had already left the school… the boy might've had a heart attack at those words. But there were still others who didn't look to far off.

"_What_?" several people cried out in horror. They were mouthing soundlessly at him like fish, as if they couldn't believe their ears. Harry especially was looking appalled… and his expression was mirrored with Weasleys.

He then went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But just as he was about to announce the Triwizard Tournament, a deafening rumble of thunder roared and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. Albus blinked in surprise as he struggled to make out the visitor. The man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff and a black travelling cloak. Everyone had turned their attention away from himself and towards the man just as he pulled off his hood and shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table with a dull clunk on his every other step.

Recognizing the newcomer, Albus sighed in relief. It was Alastor. He had been wondering when he was going to show up. When Alastor got nearer, Albus leaned over and shook his hand. "It is good to see you, Alastor. You had me worried that you had decided not to come."

He shook his head and replied, "Had something else to take care of, Dumbledore. Is there food left that hadn't been poisoned?" Albus nodded and gestured to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

Alastor shook his hair out of his face as he took his seat, pulled a plate of sausages toward him and sniffed it. Albus knew that Alastor had trained his senses to detect even the slightest bit of poison. Patiently, he waited until Alastor began to eat before turning to the stunned crowd.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Albus called brightly into the silence as they all stared at Alastor with shocked expressions. "Professor Moody."

But even as he clapped, the only other person who followed suit was Hagrid. Even the rest of the staff was starring as if transfixed by Alastor's appearance. The pathetic sound echoed around them and it didn't take long for them to stop. But Albus knew that Alastor hated it and wouldn't appreciate it if he kept it up for long.

Of course Alastor seemed totally indifferent as always and pulled out his hip flask. Deciding to put an end to this, Albus cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Alastor, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

Shocked silence filled the room for a full ten seconds. And then…

"You're JOKING!" cried one of the Weasley twins loudly.

As if they forgotten all about Alastor, they all began laughing and talking as one great voice. Albus chuckled appreciatively; glad that the attention was diverted from Alastor.

"I am _not _joking, Mr. Weasley," he called out, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..."

Minerva, who heard this joke before, cleared her throat loudly and glared at him.

Knowing that he would be in great trouble if he didn't change the subject he said quickly, "Er - but maybe this is not the time…no… Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who _do_ know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."

A few students did as they were told and began whispering quickly to each other. Albus went on to the ones who were hanging onto his every word. "The Triwizard Tournament," he began, hoping he didn't sound too dramatic. "Was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

In his opinion, Albus had thought that had been a wise choice. He couldn't see how the schools could've allowed children to risk their lives for such a dangerous competition… especially when so many innocent lives were lost.

"_Death toll_?" several students whispered, and. But most of the others weren't paying attention to that, only thinking of the prize and glory… Albus's eye twitch at that reminder. He then continued in as cheerful voice as he could, "There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."

At least he hoped not. He had thought with great distaste at the thought of any of his students in danger and was silently grateful that he had been able to convince the Ministry not to allow anyone who isn't of age to enter.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" he heard many students yell out. At every House table, Albus could see people looking around, as if expecting to see a sheet of parchment there for them to sign up. But he knew he would have to burst their bubbles and spoke again.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said seriously, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" — he had to raise his voice when most of them made noises of outrage and looked ready for a shouting match.

He knew that he wasn't winning admires for this, but they honestly had no idea to what they would be signing up for. "Is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion."

He looked at the Weasley's mutinous faces, and knew that he had to watch out for them especially. They may feel that they are being cheated, but they were still young and impatient. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."

Everyone continued to look furious at him, but he took it all in stride as he finished.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Albus sat down again and, ignoring the insults and mutterings of outrage from the students, he turned to talk to Alastor. "You had me worried there, Alastor," he said as his old friend continued to eat. "I was beginning to think that you weren't going to show up."

"Not everyone is right on time like you, Dumbledore," he answered gruffly.

"And I also heard about what happened this morning," Albus went on. "I'm afraid I must ask. Do you believe that someone was trying to break into your yard?"

"Why else would my intruder alarms go off?" he asked as he continued to eat—though before every bite he smelled it, to ensure he wasn't eating poison.

"Alastor, do you really believe that we have poisoned your food?" Albus smiled at him. Alastor never was one for small talk.

"Wouldn't be the first time," he answered. "Now shut up and leave me alone."

Albus shook his head warmly as he leaned back. "There are your social skills hard at work as always."

_*Upstairs*_

"You sure aren't making yourself any fans, Dumbledore," Dexter told him later on. It was late, and once Alastor had finished his meal, Albus had shown him his office and sleeping courters before bidding him goodnight. He was finally back in his office and was yawning, getting ready for bed when he heard his portraits talking. "Almost everyone else is furious that you set up an age limit."

"They may say that now," Albus sighed simply. "But they don't have any idea what they would be getting themselves into. They have no idea how dangerous these tasks will be. Like all children, if you tell them they can't do something, it makes them want to do it even more. But once they see what the first task is, I am certain that they will be glad that they are not the ones who have to face it."

"The Weasley twins seemed determined though," Dexter laughed as the other portraits all talked excitedly about what the first task is. "I think they're going to try and find some way to get in."

"Wouldn't surprise me if they did try," Albus smiled serenely. "But I would like to see anyone get over the Age-Line."

"Do you honestly think they can get over any spell that you put up?" Dilys asked him with a shrewd expression.

"They can try," Albus laughed. "Though I highly doubt it."

"That's almost as funny as them trying to fool the Goblet of Fire," Armando replied. "They have no idea what is going to happen."

"Unfortunately, once they are chosen there is no changing their minds," Albus said softly. "So if anyone does enter on a whim and is chosen then they won't be able to change their minds later on."

Something that had been bothering him for awhile, he asked, "How does Harry feel about this?"

"Well, they talked about it," Dexter answered. "And it sounds like the idea of entering is appealing to him, but to be honest, I don't think that he's serious about entering. Just dreaming… you know? Something that everyone dreams of…"

Albus let out a breath of relief.

'_Good,'_ he thought. Harry didn't know this… and he wasn't planning on telling the boy about it either… was that he was the main reason for the Age-Line. Protecting Harry was the sole reason that Albus had pushed the age-restriction rule on the Triwizard Tournament in the first place. Ever since the boy told him about Sybill's prediction that Voldemort would return, Albus knew what they needed to be prepared for when it did. He wanted to encourage the friendships of the other Houses and other schools… while at the same time, prevent harm coming to his students. The Triwizard Tournament seemed like the perfect excuse.

The Ministry had wanted to allow any student to enter as it had been in the past, and it had taken Albus some time for them to consider the age-restriction. They had not wanted to consider it because of the extra work that would be involved, and no Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts had ever seen a need for such a restriction, but Albus sensed the danger that Harry was in and was desperate to protect him, even at the risk of making himself very unpopular.

He was being foolish, he knew. Because of his continued delusions he could allow a young child to live in peace for a few more years, he knew that he was growing dangerously attached. Harry Potter was only fourteen, but if you were to look into his emerald eyes, you would see the quickly fading child innocence. Albus could see it… guilt, regret, and sorrow… they were all mingled into a pool of pain. For the last three years, child had to fight through life-threatening situations that would make a fully trained Auror fall apart and run. Well, he was determined not to let that happen this year. He wanted the boy to be able to sit back and enjoy himself as he should've been doing all along.

For months, it had been clear to him that the signs are pointing in a dangerous direction. Bertha Jorkins has vanished in Albania; Frank Bryce has disappeared near the Riddle House; the Dark Mark appearing at the World Cup, and the prediction of Voldemort's pending return to power. Albus knew that Voldemort had been planning his comeback, and it was one of the reasons why he had asked Alastor Moody to teach for the year.

And if Voldemort is indeed on the road to recovery, he almost certainly has a plan. The Voldemort he knew _always_ has a plan. And since the day Voldemort was vanquished by Harry, Albus has known that Voldemort wouldn't rest until he saw Harry dead.

A shiver washed over him at the thought and he turned his attention out the window at the rain beating on the glass. Albus was growing more worried for the boy with every passing day. He knew, or rather guessed that Harry's tragic fate was only to become even harder in the future. The only question was _when_. However he kept that information from Harry to avoid causing him anxiety form all the pressure.

But Harry is very well protected, and Albus couldn't see any way Voldemort could get to him. So all he can do now is keep his eyes and ears open as well as the eyes and ears of his staff, and wait until he gets a hint of what Voldemort is planning to do.

"Oh," Dexter said, interrupting Albus's thoughts and bringing him back to his office.

"Yes, Dexter?" he asked a little absent-mindedly.

"Granger is also talking about _'Slave Labor'_," Dexter explained with a shrug and making air quotations in the air. "Apparently it something about House-elves…?"

Albus chuckled. "Well, I'm glad to see that someone else is starting to think about House-elf rights."

"House-elf rights?" Phineas called out. "Why I never heard of such nonsense! Why, in my day…"

Thankfully, before Phineas could go on, Dexter called out, "Everyone's in bed now… so, I don't think we're going to be in any trouble tonight. Looks like we can all turn in easy."

"Good," Albus answered appreciatively, ignoring Phineas outraged look. "Well, I don't see any need to have to have to stay up. That is a great relief. Hopefully, we won't have anything to worry about until Halloween."

But even as he went to bed, he knew that he was only trying to lie to himself. He knew that there was a great deal to worry about…

**(Ok, I've been trying to decide that Albus go to the world cup. In the end, I don't think so. I reasoned that he's probably got a lot on his mind and too much work to do. But Minerva went in his place! Hope you all enjoyed this next chapter, and thank you all!)**


	35. Fearful Heart

**Chapter 35: Fearful Heart**

Albus had awoken a little later than he normally did the next day. His exhaustion from everything that has happened during the summer just seemed to pile up. Not for the first time, he felt the ill effects of old age. And while he was glad to see that the storm had finally passed from last night, he longed for the sun to come out.

Instead, the dark overcast swirled with rain-soaked clouds that resembled smoke, giving everything a little extra gloomy look.

Though still tired, he took his place at the staff table, and was cheered up slightly to see the teachers handing out the student's schedules. He smiled when he saw all of them sharing their timetables with their friends, wondering what they had today. Ah… to be young again with no worries except turning in your homework…

He could even pick up traces of the a few students talking about ways to enter the Triwizard Tournament. He chuckled a little louder at that as he turned his attention to his eggs and kipper. One thing you could always count on from the young… they think that they're invincible and could do anything. He couldn't help but smile a little wider at the thought of any of them being able to outwit his age line however.

His eyes fell over each and every one of them. His eyes stopping only for a second longer on the trio sitting there pouring over their food and paper. Needless to say, the first day had gone as normally as possible for the students something that he was grateful… however _he_ was forced to spend most of the day sending letter after letter to the Ministry with last-minute preparations for the tournament before he was finally able to sit back in his chair in exhaustion. In fact, it was almost dark by the time everything was ready and he was allowed to rest.

He looked to the window to see that the sun was already setting and groaned wearily—feeling as if he had just wasted a whole day on mindless paperwork. He leaned his head back and shut his eyes, feeling that planning this tournament was a lot more trouble than it was worth.

"You don't look so good, Dumbledore," said the idle voice he knew so well.

His eyes still closed, he smiled and asked, "Yes, Dexter?"

"Just curious if you wanted to know anything that happened to our little trio today?" he asked brightly. "Course if you rather not…"

"Please say not," he then heard Phineas whisper hopefully. "I'm sick of hearing about those brats."

Albus was very tired—but listening to some of what he missed today might cheer him up—and annoy Phineas at the same time as well. "Please, do," he said politely, but he didn't open his eyes yet… just wishing that he could drop off from all the worries and cares he had.

"Oh, just Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures sure seemed interesting today," he answered as he heard Phineas hiss in annoyance. "The fourth years didn't seem too happy about the Bubotubers that they had to collect pus from."

Albus chuckled at that, remembering vaguely how disgusted _he_ was when he first saw those things. "I can imagine so," he answered. "But Bubotubers has always been one of Pomona's favorite plants to start off a year with because she gets a kick out of her student's reactions."

"Well, I'm sure she wasn't disappointed," Dexter went on and Albus heard the other portraits laugh at that. "And Madame Pomfrey will be happy… they collected enough puss for an army of kids with acne."

"Like that Midgen girl?" Phineas asked scornfully. "That dim girl cursed her own nose off!"

"Phineas, please refrain from insulting the students when I'm around," Albus requested—his eyes still closed, feeling close to dozing off. "Dexter please go on."

"And right after that, they went down to Hagrid to deal with those… those…" he seemed to be having trouble trying to find a way to explain, but Albus didn't need it.

"The skrewts?" he offered helpfully, finally opening his eyes to look at him. He knew of them ever since he paid a trip down there just last week only to find hundreds of the eggs there. They were unlike anything he had ever seen before and he had asked Hagrid where they came from.

Hagrid only went red and started stuttering—a sign that he was hiding something. Hagrid was never a good liar and after a few more persistent questions, he came right out and told him that he had only just bred them.

"Yeah, them," Dexter went on. "Even though we have never seen them, I'm guessing that they aren't the most eye-catching monsters?"

"I've certainly seen more attractive creatures," Albus admitted and smiled gently as Fawkes let out a soft song that seemed to ease his weariness. The stunning bird fluttered from his perch and onto his knee—demanding attention.

"Dumbledore what are you going to do with them?" Dexter asked worriedly as Albus gently began to stroke the phoenix's feathers. "They may be small now, but they're bound to get much bigger! I think I overheard Granger say that she's betting they'll grow up to at least six feet long. And they're already dangerous! They explode for crying out loud! And you're letting them around children!"

"I know," Albus nodded, and most of the others let out similar shouts of worry. "And I've tried to tell Hagrid this… but it'd just break his heart."

"You say that now," Dilys whispered harshly, "But when we got several of them full grown, you may not think that they're so harmless then."

"Oh, I'm well aware that they're dangerous now," Albus assured them. "But we need those skrewts later on in the tournament. Hagrid says that they will be an important part in the Third Task."

"If that's the case," Everard said darkly, "My sympathies are all for the Champions. You think that maybe if you let a few hints drop about what's going to be in the Tasks, the students might think twice about trying to force themselves into the competition?"

"I wish it were that simple," he smiled tiredly. "Unfortunately, not everyone will listen. They have no idea what they have to face until it happens. But, now has anything else happened?" He was feeling a little better with these little interesting bits of information of news.

"Well, Granger is up to something," Dexter shrugged. "No idea what it is though. All I know for sure is that it's not homework apparently. She just wolfed down her food as if it were her last meal for the rest of the year and went running off to the library."

"And that's different from normal because…?" Phineas asked coldly.

"Oh, shut up," Dexter snapped at him before going on, "Like I said, no one really knows. If you ask me she's doing a lot of research on something. Oh, by the way, I think that you're going to hear from Minerva either tonight or tomorrow about that Moody nutter."

Albus groaned, not liking where this was going already. "Oh, no," he said closing his eyes again, dreading what he was going to hear. "What happened this time?"

"Oh, something about him cursing the students…" he answered.

Albus felt the need to smack himself and go see Alastor for himself about this. If there was one thing he couldn't stand it was using magic on his students as punishments. But what would cause Alastor to do this? "What happened? And who was the student?"

"Well, it started when the trio was all heading down to dinner when Malfoy appeared," he answered.

Albus groaned again. This couldn't end well. "And?"

"He showed him that newspaper article today about how Weasley rushed to help out Mad-Eye after he raised that false alarm. There was a picture of their house and the boy started insulting Weasley's mother," he said angrily. "Insulting their house and saying that his mother could lose some weight."

Albus frowned. He hated hearing how cruel children could be while so young. Young Mr. Malfoy was so used to getting his own way and putting everyone else down without any forms of punishment that he enjoyed seeing making everyone angry without fearing for the coincidences. A worrying sign indeed. "And then what happened? Did Ronald attack him?"

"No," Dexter said with a laugh. "Didn't see it coming. You see, Harry stood up for Ron, insulting Malfoy's mother back and Malfoy lost his temper. Draco can dish it out, but he sure changes his tune when someone stands up to him doesn't he? Here I got a little insight to the boy's mind. When he gets angry, it's like he's reduced to the mentality of an angry five year old who doesn't want to go to bed. As soon as Harry turned his back, Malfoy pulled out his wand and tried to curse him. That was when Mad-Eye came by."

Albus could see what had happened now; and he couldn't deny that he grew angry at the thought that someone would attack someone when their back was turned like that. "I see… so Mr. Malfoy didn't like what he heard and tried to get back at them. Not that it's completely his fault… he has been so spoiled that he doesn't know what is right and wrong anymore. I have to say that it saddens me greatly to see this."

"He's a coward, just like his father if you ask me," Everard muttered scathingly under his breath.

"And while I don't think I need to ask," Albus went on. "But Alastor…?"

"Well, what do you expect happened?" Dexter went on excitedly. "Mad-Eye went nuts. Wiped out his wand, and he… well you see he turned…" he seemed to have trouble speaking for he was being overcome by laughter. "He turned Malfoy into… into a ferret and was bouncing him all over the hall!"

Everyone but Albus and Phineas laughed at that. Indeed, Phineas was looking outraged that a Slytherin had been cursed like that and was now complaining loudly about how things wouldn't have been run like this in his day. Albus waited patiently until Dexter had calmed down enough for him to speak again.

"I'm sorry," he grinned through watering eyes. "It's just funny. That boy was asking for it if you ask me though. It's about time someone showed him he's not as high and mighty as he thinks he is."

Albus shook his head, half exasperated, half amused. "And then what happened?"

"Moody said that he didn't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," Dexter explained and Albus nodded in understanding.

"While it's not something that I can approve of, but that does indeed sound like something that Alastor would say. And tell me, was young Malfoy injured? Not that I would believe that Alastor would intentionally hurt a child but…?"

"Well, Minerva came by and turned him back," Dexter shrugged as if in disappointment. "Boy is just embarrassed of course, but I don't think there's any lasting harm… well maybe if you count a fear of Moody of course…?" he smirked at that.

"I had told Alastor that we never use magic on a student as a punishment," Albus said while he shook his head. "At least stop Malfoy from performing a curse and then talk to him."

"I hate to admit it, but I have to agree with what Moody did," Everard said frowning. "That would be a shock the boy won't forget anytime soon. There are some kids who never learn. Especially for someone like Malfoy… talking doesn't do a damn thing to them. They pretend to listen and be sorry before they do it again. And I've been angry at Malfoy anyway for all the trouble he's been causing since he arrived. And Snape thinks that Potter's the problem…"

"Speaking of Snape," Dexter finished. "I don't think that he's too happy to see Moody."

"Now that I'm not surprised by," Albus nodded. "He's had a cautious fear of Alastor Moody since the war ended thirteen years ago. He knew Alastor's persistence of capturing Death Eaters and how he doesn't stop until that Death Eater is brought to justice. In fact, it took me a great deal of effort to convince him that Severus is on our side… and even then Alastor still isn't happy about it. And after everything's he's seen and done, I'm not surprised that trust is almost impossible for him."

"I like Moody," Everard admitted. "He doesn't take any amount of disrespect from anyone."

"Maybe…" Albus sighed again. "But I will have a word with Alastor about this in the morning." He thought it over for a moment and asked, "The fourth year Gryffindors have him on Thursday I believe? Please tell me how that class goes."

They nodded in understand as he groaned and got painfully to his feet. He went to bed that night, but his mind was swimming with everything that was happening. With everything that has been happening lately, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before Voldemort returned. When and how were still the biggest questions… but he had to start preparing his students for the worse… but it still felt painful to him that his students would be the ones to suffer for everything that was happening.

Because of Tom's lust for power, so many will lose so much… it felt like a punch in his gut just thinking about it… like all his breath has been taken from him. This helped to ease that pain by knowing that they will be more prepare for what might come… better that they be prepared and never have to use these skills then find themselves in a situation and have no idea what to do.

He had a very good idea to what his friend was going to teach them on Thursday… he knew that this lesson is going to be a hard one for more students than others like Neville and Harry…

This was going to be a hard for these two to witness. For two of these three unforgivable spells took their parents from them. Especially Harry… this is going to hit Harry hard because, even though he had been the recipient of the curse, he had never actually _seen_ it before.

He rolled over—guilt weight heavily on his heart and he wasn't completely sure why.

_*Two days later*_

Two days had passed without much trouble—except for the portraits informing him that Mr. Longbottom's fear of Severus caused him to melt his sixth cauldron in potions. He had talked to Severus again and again about how he treated his students. Either he wasn't listening, or just didn't care.

He was getting ready to go down to dinner when Dilys had appeared to tell him what had happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Well, the Gryffindors were really looking forward to their first lesson with Moody," she told him conversationally just as he was putting a few of his books back on the shelves. "In fact, so much so that they were all waiting for him outside his classroom before the bell had even rung."

"I'm sure they were," Albus answered knowingly. "They must all be anxious to learn what the best Auror the Ministry ever had has to teach them. Now tell me, what did they learn about? Did anything happen?"

"Dark curses," Dilys sighed sadly. "The Unforgivable Curses in fact. Albus what were you thinking allowing this? They aren't supposed to learn about them until _sixth_ year. They aren't old enough to understand how dark things were back then."

"I know," Albus sighed back. He hadn't wanted to, but they needed to learn this. If Tom was making a comeback soon, then he had to get them all—Harry especially—ready just in case.

"Moody cursed a spider under the Imperius Curse first," Dilys went on grumpily. "Made it do all sorts of funny things like making it dance and roll over. I don't like it! He made it look so… so… comical. They were all laughing… and then he brought it all crashing down by asking them if they'd like it if he did it to them."

"Hey," Phineas said thoughtfully. "I like the way this nutjob thinks."

"Scared them all half to death he did," Dilys went on. She then grew uncomfortable before she went on. "And… Neville talked about the Cruciatus Curse."

Albus stopped midway through putting the last book on the shelf. He slowly lowered his arm as he became lost in thought. Yes, Mr. Longbottom would know that spell all too well.

"It did something to him," Dilys went on worriedly. "Just seeing it turned him white as a sheet and he was shaking something awful."

"While I'm not astonished, I am truly sorry to hear that," Albus murmured so quietly that he wasn't sure she heard him. He had expected that the poor boy would react like this—in fact, he would've been astonished if he hadn't.

"And finally… _Avada Kedavra_," she finished just as softly. "Harry just zoned out. He just saw it performed in front of him, and knows that he's the only person to survive it. I don't think he even heard anything for the rest of the lesson."

Albus closed his eyes. He knew that seeing that spell for the first time would also have an effect on Harry. Albus had been certain that he had been able to convince himself that this was for the best. But now his resolved wavered. Why? He hardly ever questioned himself before… and yet this one boy was making him question _everything_.

For years, Albus had a strong idea of what Harry had to face and sacrifice and do, and he wanted him to be prepared for what his future held. He needed to teach him—but it wasn't about training him to be a dark wizard killer, it was helping him to survive. There has to be a distinction there. He had a unique relationship to Harry—so different from any other—because he watched him so closely for so many years. He saw what the boy went through and how he rallied against setbacks: he didn't watch any other student this closely. His relationship formed with Harry at first because it was circumstantial—Harry could save the world, he had to keep an eye on him…

But why did he suddenly feel that the world wasn't as important anymore? Why did his heart ache so terribly?

"They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses," Dilys finished up grimly and Albus snapped out of his thoughts. "I didn't like the way they talked about it after they left. They were talking about it as if it were a show. I worry about this generation."

"They are young," Albus sighed as he finished putting the book back. "They don't understand what the real world is like yet… or rather… most of them don't."

"Oh, I feel real bad for that Longbottom boy," she told him. "If you ask me, he took the lesson harder than Harry did. He's really out of it…"

"Is he alright now?" he asked in concern.

"Oh, yeah," she waved his hand at him. "Moody took him off to his office and gave him some tea. I was concerned so I paid a quick visit up there to make sure he was going to be alright. I listened from a portrait outside his office. They just talked for a little while—in fact, Moody told him that Sprout said how good he is at Herbology and he even lent him a book on water plants."

Albus smiled sadly; glad that his old friend was acting more like himself. It was heart-warmingly domestic, but so depressing in the simple fact that there was no possible way to prevent it from happening. He shook his head free of creeping thoughts and listened for more.

"That Ronald is some idiot," she said grumpily. "He just talked about how that spider died in front of Harry. You think he would've known better than to talk about that…"

A part of Albus agreed at that, but he was more taken aback than anything that Ron Weasley had forgotten how much his best friend had lost.

"You really don't care what the Ministry thinks do you, Dumbledore?" Armando asked him wheezing.

"I prefer to think of it more along the lines of… thinking what is best for the students," Albus politely retorted.

"Well, I can see why you and Moody are such good friends," Dilys teased, leaning back in her chair. "Do what you think is best and worry about the coincidences later."

Albus left the portraits to relax for now and he went down to the Great Hall—suddenly less hungry than he had been than before. Almost unconsciously, he glanced at the Gryffindor table and his eyes almost instantly found Harry sitting between his two friends. Though Miss Granger almost inhaled her food and left almost as soon as he had sat down. Albus watched her run to the doors and out of the Hall before he looked back to Harry.

The boy didn't seem to be as hungry as the rest of the Gryffindors around him. He just seemed to silently pick at his food with his fork but didn't even bring himself to bother with eating. He and Ronald sat in silence for awhile before they too finally left.

Albus sighed unhappily, watching them go. He looked back along the table, but didn't see Neville among any of them. He supposed that Neville wished to be alone for now and couldn't bear to face the rest of the school at the moment. Ignoring the feelings of guilt, he quietly finished his food and had gone straight back up to his office, hoping that he could have a chance to go to bed without having to deal with any more drama tonight.

He silently finished up the rest of his work for the next day, feeling that with any luck, he wouldn't have to deal with much tomorrow before he asked his portraits for a report.

"The boys are now sitting there doing their homework," Everard assured him.

"Good," Albus sighed, "They should be at that for awhile."

"Not sure why they bother," he laughed lightly. "They're just talking about making up predictions for Divination. Just predicting horrible tragedies and their untimely demises for next month… apparently Weasley's going to drown trice…"

Albus burst out laughing. After feeling so miserable for the last couple days, it felt good to laugh at something again.

"Also," Everard said sounding exasperated. "I found out what Granger had been doing in the library so much lately. She was looking up all the information on House-Elves. She now started up something she calls _S.P.E.W._ Lovely name isn't it?"

"Spew?" Phineas called indigently. "Spew? What is this about?"

"Rather," Everard went on, "It means, the _Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare_. She is determined to do something about the treatment of the House-elves and has a box of badges with the word Spew on them."

"She is nuttier than Moody," Phineas said firmly. "Don't know why she bothers. Why the House-elves have been treated the same way they have been for countless centuries!"

"And it's about time they change," Albus added thoughtfully. He was now truly interested in this. "Please," he asked Everard. "Go on, I'd like to hear more about this."

"Well, from what I heard, she's been looking at everything she could find on elf enslavement and is determined to change it. She can't understand why no one's done anything before now."

_'Because no one's cared enough,' _he thought sadly.

"Anyway, she sure gave a firm speech to the boys," he said half laughing. "She didn't just assume that her two friends are going to join, she's not giving them a choice. She had decided that she is going to make sure that all House-elves get wages and proper working conditions. Once she's done with that, she is going to change the laws and is going to make sure that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had them represented… or something along those lines."

"Well, she's not too ambitious is she?" Dilys asked and Albus laughed again, more hearty than the first time.

"Has she some idea how to follow through with this plan?" Albus asked curiously. "Saying is one thing… doing is another."

"Well, she said that first she's going to get members—and collect a few Sickles from them to fund the origination. She made Ron treasurer and Harry secretary… I know she said a lot more but I can't remember anything else."

Albus shook his head and continued to chuckle deeply—enjoying himself more than he had been all year. He finally calmed down, wiping a few tears of enjoyment from his eyes and said, "While I agree she is doing the right thing, she's going about it the wrong way. House-elves are used to poor treatment and now consider that things like wages and sick leave as disrespectful. I hope she doesn't expect them to change and want all this overnight. While I am pleased to hear this, I'm afraid that Miss Granger has a long way to go."

"I think that her main problem at the moment is the name!" Everard called disgustedly. "Who wants to walk around with badges that say _spew_?"

"I have a name," Albus said happily. "How about… _Wizards for Elf Independence, Rights, and Dignity_? I personally am fond of that name."

As the rest of them laughed, Albus heard a slight tap on the window. He looked up to see a rather ruffled-looking owl sitting there, impatient to get in. At first he dreaded the thought of it being another owl from the Ministry, but he noticed that this one didn't look like it was one of the official birds. Curious he got up and opened the window. The owl hopped in and stuck his leg out eagerly.

Albus untied it and as soon as he did, the little owl flew off into the night in a rather weary sort of way—obviously looking for a place to rest. In the distance, he could see an almost ghostly figure of a white owl, shining like some lost spirit in the darkness, soaring off towards the owlery. Albus watched the owl until it was out of his sight before he pulled the rather crumpled up note inside and opened it. The writing was sloppy, as though it had been scribbled in a great hurry. To his surprise, he saw that it was from Sirius.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_I_'_m coming back north. I got a letter from Harry over the summer telling me that his scar hurt him and I'm worried. He told me that the last time it happened, it was because Voldemort was near him. Why would Voldemort have been near him in the first place? What exactly has been happening to my godson in Hogwarts? And why should his scar been hurting in the first place? I know that you're going to tell me to go stay where I am, but I have to know that he's alright. I have no idea what is happening here, but you better keep him safe for me._

_Sirius _

Albus was shaking his head at the note. Sirius… he had always been so reckless, but this had to be one of the worse. What if he was caught? He would be handed straight back to the dementors without a second thought. But what he said bothered him greatly.

Harry's scar had hurt him again? But Tom was nowhere near him all summer… how was this possible? Suddenly a thought came to him… a terrible, horrific thought… he shook his head, not wanting to even dwell on this _what if_. Ignoring his portraits he went back to the desk and quickly wrote back a reply. Trying to explain as best he could to Sirius before his old student could do something even more reckless.

While at the same time, a terrible fear that he hadn't felt in a long time began to sink into his heart.

**(Oh, things are getting good. Dumbledore now knows about Harry's scar hurting him, and is starting to come up with theories about why that may be. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and the next one will be welcoming the two schools—to when Harry's name come out of the goblet. Hope you are looking forward to it and I'll get it posted as soon as possible. Thanks again.)**


	36. The Hint of a Plan

**Chapter 36: The Hint of a Plan **

For the next few weeks, Albus felt as if someone was beating the inside of his skull with a Beater's bat. If Sirius was back in the country, then it would only increase his chances of being caught and given a one-way ticket to the Dementors. Now, Albus could understand Sirius's need to be closer to his godson, but there were many other ways of doing that that wouldn't be as dangerous for him. Albus had sent Fawkes a few times with letters of advice, trying to give him information and the best places to lie low. But the next afternoon, he found out that he hadn't been the only person that Sirius had written to last night.

"Harry got a letter from Black," Everard told him just as Albus had finished instructing Sirius where the Ministry was now looking for him, and the places where he was to avoid. "I think that he's upset that his godfather's back."

"I'm not surprised," Albus told them as he handed the letter to Fawkes who disappeared in a ball of fire. "He finally has someone like a parent to look up to and help him. The last thing that he wants is if Sirius is caught. I think… should it happen… it would break him if Sirius had been caught. That's why I'm doing everything I can to prevent it. I only hope that Sirius will take my advice."

"He'd be foolish if he didn't," Dexter said. "But he can't be that reckless can he?"

"I don't see why the brat should be so worried over my useless, great-great grandson," Phineas said sourly.

Albus looked up at him simply. He knew that Phineas may say that, but in truth, he knew that the former Slytherin Headmaster was just as worried as the rest of them were. Rather than telling him this, he said, "Don't underestimate someone when they are determined to protect someone."

_*The next couple weeks*_

Albus kept a very close watch out for any signs of Sirius, sending letters as often as necessary to make sure that he wasn't drawing attention to himself, and for any signs of him in the Prophet. But he knew that while Sirius was reckless, he wasn't stupid and he could take care of himself. But that still didn't stop him from worrying.

He distracted himself by focusing on the daily reports that his portraits delivered to him about his teachers and what the students were up to. And these days he was receiving almost daily complaints about Severus.

"Snape threatened to poison them!" Dilys said in outrage after having eavesdropped on the fourth years. "He's threatening to poison some of them to make sure their antidotes work."

The other portraits let out yells of shock, while Phineas roared with laughter. "Oh, I knew that I liked this guy. That should get those slackers working alright."

"Though threatening the students is going a bit far, Phineas," Albus said slowly. He took off his glasses and wearily rubbed his eyes. He had tried again and again to help Severus, but his former student was obviously not interested in changing anytime soon. "While I doubt that Severus would actually go through with it, I don't like that he's scaring them like this."

"But if it gets them to actually work…" Phineas began in a self-important voice. Albus shook his head, and went back to addressing Dilys. "I also heard that Alastor was planning on making his classes more difficult."

"That's an understatement," Albus heard Dexter mutter.

"Oh, that's another thing that I wanted to talk to you about, Dumbledore. To make it short and sweet… HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?" Dilys suddenly yelled at him, causing some of the other portraits to jump in fright. "You're allowing—that—that—crackpot to place the Imperius Curse on each of the in turn?"

"It's important," he answered simply as others spluttered in astonishment that Albus Dumbledore would allow something such as the use of an illegal curse on the students that he was famous for dedicated all his time and effort into protecting.

"Important?" she repeated scathingly. "How could putting the Imperius Curse on the students… an Unforgiveable Curse help them?"

Albus looked down sadly, carefully choosing his words. He knew that it would only be a matter of time before Tom returned, and when that happened… then Harry _had_ to be ready for whatever Tom had to throw at him. And not just Harry… everyone. Better that they know how to throw off the curse in the company of someone who they could trust then under a Death Eater and not stand a chance. He then asked her how they all did.

She gave him a disgusted look but explained all the strange and unusual things that Alastor made them do such as singing, dancing, imitations, and—in Neville Longbottom's case—gymnastics. But was then assured that each one of them recovered.

"And Harry?" he asked, wondering what had happened on the boy's turn. He knew that only those with a strong heart and will could throw off the curse… so his hopes were high when it came to Harry.

"Well… first time," she admitted slowly. "He crashed into the desk, and fractured both his kneecaps. From what I heard, he tried to jump and stop himself from jumping at the same time. He's fine now I suppose," she added grumpily. "But Moody insisted on putting him through it four more times until he could throw it off completely."

Albus nodded in pride—he knew that if there was anyone who would be able to throw it off it would've been Harry. However, this test won't be like the real situation. Tom was most famous for his use of the Dark Arts, and as far as Albus's knew, no one had ever been able to throw off his Imperius Curse before. But there was always a chance that someone will… and as for Alastor… he wasn't surprised that his old friend insisted on going once he realized Harry's talent with Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was known for pushing those with potential harder than anyone else.

"Ouch," Dexter winced at the thought, "Was that really necessary?"

"I am deeply impressed," Albus smiled instead. "That is brilliant, and it was his first time as well. Even for me, it took a very long time before I was able to throw it off."

"As for Moody," Dilys went on sullenly, "He really is mad isn't he? I overheard what he told some of the students what he did to that April Fools' Day witch who shouted 'Boo' behind him. She was in St. Mungos for _seven months_ and even now she still glows in the dark!"

"He's still telling that story?" Albus asked politely with a chuckle. "While I am sorry for her, she really should've known better than to try something like that to someone who is considered to be paranoid."

"Paranoid?" Phineas snorted. "More like completely nuts."

Albus rolled his eyes as he finished the four papers and summoned a House-elf to pin each one up in the common rooms later that night.

**TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT**

**TH****E DELEGATIONS FROM**

**BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY –****STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST.**

And for the next week, everyone talked only about the Triwizard Tournament—it seemed that no matter where he went—everyone was talking only about who was going to be champion and what the tasks were going to be like. He especially enjoyed hearing all the rumors that the students had come up with. It was always so entertaining to hear a child's imagination. Everything from the names of potential Hogwarts champions—to the tasks that they predicted—each one as wild and dangerous as the next idea.

He had told the House-elves to do an extra-thorough cleaning to welcome Beauxbatons and Durmstrang guests. And they took his words deeply to heart. Including washing all the portraits, polishing and oiling the suits of armor… even his teachers were becoming stricter with the cleaning around here.

This continued on for some time until, finally, the day before Halloween arrived. He had gone down to the Great Hall early that morning to put up the best banners and decorations for the feast tonight. Once he was finished, he smiled; knowing that this would only help to excite the students even more. Tonight, their guests would finally make their appearance, and by tomorrow night, the Tournament would begin.

As he sat down to enjoy his breakfast, knew that the House-elves were sure to be pulling out all the stops for the food tonight. He then chuckled when he thought of that… thinking about Miss Granger.

He had grown very interested in hearing about Hermione Granger's tirade through the school about House-elf rights. His portraits were informing him on this—though he could see that they thought that it was a waste of time. But he enjoyed hearing about it. But while he admired Miss Granger's determination to make a difference, he believed that she was going about this a little too strongly and should start smaller. He personally thought that it would be better if should she focus more on helping to put a stop to House-elf abuse instead of trying to set them all free in one go.

Before, when Voldemort had been in power, countless witches and wizards had been taken prisoner to be tortured and held captive; whether it was to blackmail their families, or to simply be used as torture victims. Either way, that by the time the war was over and they were found and rescued… some of the prisoners had to be coaxed out of the gates. They had been there so long, become so inured to its horrors, that the world outside no longer had any meaning for them. That was the same thing with House-elves. They are all so used to enslavement, that the outside world is a frightening place for them.

But for now, he was glad that the ones here are safe and well-cared for. And if any one of them had a request such as to be freed, he would be more than happy to do so. He longed for a day when all species could exist in peace with each other, but knew that day was far off and would most likely never happen during his lifetime. He sighed a little sadly as he turned to his kippers, trying to imagine the excited faces on everyone's faces when their guests arrive in a few hours time.

_*Evening*_

The rest of the day passed in mostly a blur, and soon enough, everyone was in the Entrance Hall, getting ready to head out and greet the other two schools.

He had pulled on his best robes and gone down to lead them all outside—looking forward to seeing their reactions for when the other two schools arrived. All around him he could hear friends talking with each other excitedly, and the Heads of Houses telling off their students. As was the case with Minerva. "Weasley, straighten your hat. Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair. Follow me, please… first years in front… no pushing…"

He smiled as he passed by them, and heard Filius telling several of his Ravenclaws to stop lagging behind before they went out into the chilly air. He had them all file down the steps and stand lined up in front of the castle doors—not that they minded as they looked around, wondering where and how they were arriving.

Albus could've told them… but where was the fun in that?

They waited, Albus keeping a close eye on the lake and the sky… wondering which would arrive first… and then…

He then called out to them all as he spotted Madame Maxime's carriage."Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" he heard at least half the school call out; spinning around like tops, as if expecting to see them apperate.

"There!" he heard one of the older students shout out and they all looked above the forest. Sure enough, the powder-blue carriage, pulled by the large winged horses had arrived.

"It's a dragon!" he heard one of the first years scream out until another voice shouted out, "Don't be stupid… it's a flying house!"

'_Well,'_ Albus thought as the carriage drew closer. _'That's not a bad guess.'_

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land before they crashed in front of them—the horses snorting and tossing their heads. Albus had been able to get a quick glimpse of the Beauxbatons coat of arms before the door opened and one of the students jumped out to pull out the steps for their Headmistress.

Some of his students gasped as Madame Maxime appeared and gracefully stepped down from the stagecoach and surveyed them all with polite interest. Albus simply smiled and started to clap and was glad to see that his students were showing their manners and broke into applause too. Though many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at her— but he supposed that could ignore that.

Madame Maxime looked up at the castle and down at them all again before she smiled at him when she saw him coming to great her. She extended a hand that had a ring on each finger which he politely kissed and said graciously and sincerely, "My dear Madame Maxime. Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dort," she said and he could hear a few of the students snigger at the name as he also smiled. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," he informed her before she waved her hand behind her to the selection of students that had also emerged. "My pupils."

He nodded thoughtfully to each one of them. But he could see that they were in their silk robes, and seemed to be shivering with their heads wrapped scarves and shawls—obviously nervous of being in front of such a large crowd.

"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked him curiously.

"He should be here any moment," he assured her. Concerned for her students, he asked, "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," she said with a glance at her shivering pupils before looking back at him and asked worriedly, "But ze 'orses -"

He smiled reassuringly and answered, "Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them. The moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other - er - charges."

He didn't think it would be wise to mention that there were creatures called _Skrewts_ that were the problem. Not that it mattered, for Madame Maxime didn't look convinced as she said, "My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling. Zey are very strong…"

Albus only smiled wider and said, "I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job."

"Very well," she conceded before bowing slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

He bowed respectfully as well. "It will be attended to," he promised.

"Come," she said in a commanding tone to her students and Hogwarts parted to allow them up the steps—many watching them and Madame Maxime until they were out of their sights before turning back to the dark grounds.

For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping and the students whispering to each other about what they had just seen. Albus turned in the direction of the lake—knowing that it would only be a matter of minutes before Durmstrang arrived… _Durmstrang_

His smile faded slightly as he thought of that school… remembering painfully of the very first former pupil of that school and of his own failures for just a moment. It was with the greatest of relief when the lake began to bubble.

He watched as if the water was going down a drain and the whirlpool appeared.

"The lake! Look at the lake!" he heard someone yell and now everyone was staring at it. The smile returned a little forcefully to his face as he watched the tip of the mast appear from the heart of the vortex…

Almost dramatically, the ship of Durmstrang appeared and rose out of the water, gleaming almost ghostly and emaciated… as if it had been a sunken ruin for several decades. He watched the ship bobble in the water as if it were a toy before it glided silently towards them. As everyone began to talk loudly in amazed voices he had walked straight to the front lines just as they heard the splash of an anchor being lowered, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

Albus smiled when he saw all the passengers leave the ship with Karakaroff in the lead.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily and he began to walk a little quicker up the slope towards them. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," he replied honestly and shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff said, looking up at the castle and smiling; though Albus knew that he was only saying that to be polite—for his eyes were rather cold. "How good it is to be here, how good… Viktor, come along, into the warmth…" He then turned back to him and said, "You don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…"

"Not at all," he told him peacefully as Karkaroff beckoned forward the infamous Victor Krum to the head of the line. "I am certain that our healer, Madam Pomfrey would be more than happy to give him a Pepper-up Potion if you wish it," he told him as they walked inside with both schools behind them. Albus could hear his own students talking about Victor in excited voices and he sighed, having a feeling that the poor boy wasn't looking forward to this.

He showed them into the Great Hall where the Beauxbatons students were already waiting at the Ravenclaw table. He and Karkaroff watched everyone head while they headed to an antechamber off the hall so that he could introduce him and Madame Maxime to the rest of his staff before they headed in themselves. Once the introductions were said and done, they all walked into the hall in a single file—with the heads of the three schools last in line.

As soon as Madame Maxime walked in, her students leapt to their feet to show their respect. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed but they didn't react at all until they all sat down. Albus was the only one still standing and he looked around them all, his arms open wide in welcome.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," he said beaming around them all. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

He distantly heard one of the Beauxbatons girls laugh at his words, but he let it slide easily before he continued. "The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

He sat back down before he began to talk to Karkaroff, "So how have you been, Igor? How do you feel about your selection of students?"

"Oh, plenty," he replied with gusto as he helped himself to some wine. "Especially for our Victor. I am almost certain that he will be chosen for our champion. What of you, Dumbledore? Out of everyone here, who do you think is most likely to uphold Hogwart's honor?"

"Now, Igor, I find you shouldn't be picking favorites… particularly if you are the Headmaster," Albus responded politely as poured them both a goblet of wine. "You should do your best to treat them all evenly and to only step in if there is trouble."

"Perhaps," Karkaroff said unconvinced. "But there is an occasional one out of several hundreds where you take more interest in than the others, don't you agree?"

Albus unintentionally glanced towards the Gryffindor table before admitting, "I suppose that I can't disagree with you completely on that."

The rest of the meal went on for some time… though halfway through their meal he heard a familiar voice call out, "Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?"

Albus looked up in time to see Hagrid waving a heavily bandaged hand and called back, "Thrivin'!"

Albus let out a breath of air at those words; he had been dreading that. Those Skrewts were already a handful to deal with and they're still considered small. He wasn't going to be looking forward to how much bigger they will get.

The meal passed on without too much more incident; unless you count spotting the girl that Madame Maxime told him about being part veela. Sure enough, all the boys were staring at her awestruck when she removed her scarf. He chuckled merrily as he watched her get up from the Ravenclaw table and to the Gryffindor table to ask for some of the food.

Just as she sat back down, Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch had appeared and Argus showed them up to the two remaining empty seats. At long last, the plates were empty and wiped clean and everyone was now looking to the teachers eagerly.

Albus dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin before he stood up again. Everyone immediately became quiet seemed to fill the Hall now and they all leaned towards him in excitement.

He then called out them all in a bright smile, "The moment has come. The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket — just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - there was a smattering of polite applause - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

He could see that not one of them looked interested when he named the two men… while they applauded; they were still mostly focused on him, wanting him to get to the part where the champions would be chosen.

He went on, dragging out the conversation just a little bit longer just to tease them all. "Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

They all seemed to be holding their breaths the more that he talked, as if trying to will him into finishing the introductions. He could only smile even winder and called out to Argus, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Argus then staggered forwards carrying the ancient wooden chest encrusted with jewels that had been taken out of storage, and up to their table. And once he placed the box before him, he addressed everyone else again. "The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

Everyone froze—from both fear and excitement and Albus could practically hear their thoughts to what the three tasks will be. He then went on, "As you know, three champions compete in the tournament one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

He took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket—awakening the magic from within and undoing the protective charms around the lid. The lid creaked slowly open and he reached inside it to pull out the Goblet of Fire where it was filled with its blue flames. He reverently closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, for them all to see. They all looked at it in astonishment… having obviously thought that the selector would've been a person instead of an ancient, but powerful, object.

Smiling a little wider at their stunned expressions, he went on, "Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet. Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward."

And he silently prayed to himself that they would all think it over very carefully before putting their names into the goblet. Most mistakes aren't made from inaction, but rather hasty, ill-thought out action. And if they change their minds at the last second, it would be too late to turn back if their names came out of the goblet.

"Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."

Knowing that he would have to break it to many of them, he finished by saying, "To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation. I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line."

Several of them were shooting him filthy looks which he took in strive before he finished. "Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion."

The very reason he was so relieved that no one underage would be able to compete. Hopefully, after the champions are picked, everyone will be able to enjoy the rest of the year and support their school's champion. After the last three years… here was hoping to some sense of peace and by the end of the tournament, having new friends and understanding for each other.

"Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

He relaxed in his seat as he watched all the students from each of the schools get up and head to the door. He then heard Minerva's voice right next to his ear as she and the other teachers began to leave their seats. "I think that you made a few more enemies, Dumbledore."

He turned to face her and smiled. "You think that I was wrong to have the Age Line put up so that no one underage will be able to compete in a very dangerous, life-threatening tournament?"

"Of course not," she said briskly as she raised her eyebrows at him. "I find it very sensible. Why no one ever thought to do so before now, I'll never know. I am merely stating a fact." She pointed to the heads of the grumbling scholars who were talking furiously about the Age Line.

"They will thank me for it once they get a glimpse of the First Task," Albus said unconcerned. He leaned back and watched them all leaving… his eyes then spotted Karkaroff leading his students back to the ship. He watched, disapprovingly as he snapped at one of his boys before he lead them to the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry stopped courteously to let them walk through first.

He watched carefully as Karkaroff said something to him before he was about to head through, but Albus saw him freeze and looked back at Harry in amazement. Albus's eyes narrowed slightly and he kept a close watch on them, knowing that Karkaroff must be stunned to see the one responsible for putting a stop to his old master right was here before him. The Durmstrang students were now staring curiously at Harry too before they realized who it was.

"What ees it?" he heard Madame Maxime say as she gracefully got up from her seat and spotted the hold up at the front door. "Why 'ave zey stopped?"

Albus was spared from answering when Alastor had limped over to them. Karkaroff turned to look at him and froze in fear. Albus was suddenly wondering whether or not he should've warned Karkaroff that Alastor Moody was here. But he didn't like the idea of having another former Death Eater here when he wasn't sure that he could be trusted. He couldn't hear what the two of them said, but soon enough, Karkaroff turned and led them all out of the hall.

Albus sighed as he got up and offered to escort Madame Maxime outside.

_*The next day*_

Albus stretched wearily as he got up early the next morning. But still excited for what was about to take place tonight. While he was still full from last night, he highly doubted that he would be able to eat anything for breakfast today, and was more interested in what his portraits had to tell him when he stepped into his office. After everyone left the hall last night, he moved the Goblet of Fire into the entrance hall and set up the Age Line… as well as a little twist of his own to anyone foolish to cross it while they are still underage.

"Did anyone put their names in?" he asked as he put on his favorite hat. "Most of seventh year," Armando informed him. "As well as all almost half the sixth years and the Durmstrang students… I think that Beauxbatons is planning on doing it this morning. Oh, and I thought that you would like to know that we did get a few who thought that an Aging Potion would work. A few of them are in the hospital wing."

Albus chuckled merrily. "Well, no one can say that they weren't warned."

After he paid a quick trip to the hospital wing to hear from Madam Pomfrey and see who had tried to age themselves. He smiled merrily when he saw the two students sitting in beds with long white beards and a great deal of humiliation… he offered them words of support before he left and gone down to breakfast.

As he thought, he was only able to eat a little bit of his breakfast before he decided to go and meet with the rest of his teachers and see if there are any last minute preparations that needed to be taken care of. But when he headed towards the entrance hall, he heard people talking beyond the doors. "One drop each. We only need to be a few months older."

Albus shook his head as he leaned back to watch who it was this time. It was the Weasley twins and young Lee Jordon standing there looking excited. Well, if they wanted to take the chance after they'd been warned, they would have to suffer the consequences. "We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," Lee Jordon also said before Hermione frowned at them.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know. I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this."

Albus nodded. Of course an Ageing potion was the first thing that came to his mind when he thought up the Age Line. But these three weren't paying any attention to his, and now Miss Granger's warning, so now they were really asking for trouble.

"Ready? C'mon, then - I'll go first -"

Albus watched as one of the twins walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes, took a deep breath and stepped over the line.

Maybe it was a little cruel—letting them think that they got over the line… but they did have to learn. He watched as the second twin let out a yell of triumph and leapt over as well. But then the spell activated flung them back out of the circle and landed ten feet away on the floor. He then began to laugh as the second consequence then came into effect as both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

Albus chortled as he watched the twins get a look at each other and started roaring with laughter as well. These two were something else… always finding laughter even in the face of disappointment. He finally walked out of the Great Hall and looked over them both before saying, "I did warn you."

They all looked up at him smiling brightly at them all, "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Everyone laughed louder at that as the boys left and headed straight up to the hospital wing. Albus allowed himself another chuckle as he went to go and join the other teachers to prepare for tonight.

_*Later that night*_

The moment that everyone had been waiting for had finally come.

Albus and the rest of the school as well as their guests were now halfway through the Halloween feast, though most people seemed more interested in finishing their meal as quickly as possible. Albus had enjoyed his food as slowly as possible on purpose as they all kept looking up impatiently to see if he was done.

He was grateful that everything seemed to be going as smoothly as they had planned. If you don't count when Hagrid had arrived wearing his best suit and seemed to have tried combing his hair. Albus thought at first that he just wanted to look his best like everyone else, but his eyes feel onto Madame Maxime, who was enjoying a conversation with Pomona and he smiled knowingly.

Once he felt that the students had suffered enough, the plates were magically cleaned and everyone feel silent at once. Everyone turned their attentions directly to him and waited to see what was going to happen.

He then called out to the whole room, "Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber," he pointed to the door to the chamber where the first years usually stood before the Sorting every year, "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He raised his wand to put out the lights for a little extra dramatic flair and they turned to the goblet and the whole hall seemed to be holding their breaths. As he predicted, after about a minute, the flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red. Sparks began to fly from it—the room gasped as a tower of fire erupted and a single charred piece of parchment emerged.

Albus reached out and caught it. He held it out in front of the flames to read the name written in a strong hand… _Victor Krum – Durmstrang._

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

Everyone applauded loudly, especially Victor's classmates from the Slytherin table. He watched as Victor slouch up from his seat and up towards him. His face held no emotion, but Albus could see a proud shine in his dark eyes. Albus smiled encouragingly at him before he walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" he heard Karkaroff boom behind him so that everyone could hear him. "Knew you had it in you!"

Albus waited patiently for the clapping and cheers to die down as he turned his attention back to the Goblet of Fire. Once things had calmed down and the tension was back, the blue-white flames turned a dazzling red again. Albus caught the next parchment that the goblet had shot out, and in the soft, elegant writing it was _Fleur Delacour – Beauxbatons._

He then read this out to the school and the young part-veela gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and made her way to the anti-chamber with a beaming smile. Albus smiled sympathetically towards a few of the other girls who hadn't been chosen and were now crying.

Now Albus turned back to the goblet, wondering like everyone else, who the Hogwarts champion would be. And at last, he read out the champion's name… "The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!"

Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric, grinning broadly, got up and headed towards them. The screaming went on for so long, that Albus had to wait until it had died down enough for his voice to be heard.

"Excellent!" he happily when at long last they applause had died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real-"

But Albus's words had just died in his throat… the Goblet of fire has turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it for a fourth time… and another piece of charred parchment was spat out. Albus could only stare at it as it slowly fluttered down to the floor. He automatically reach out for it and froze when he saw the name written on it.

_Harry Potter…_

As soon as he read that name, he thought that the whole world seemed to be falling away from him. No, not Harry… not again. He's been through enough… can't he be given some peace? This was the reason why he had insisted for the Age Line… the reason he was trying so hard to protect him this year…

Looking up into the crowd, he could see Harry's shocked face as he looked back at him. With difficultly, he had found his voice and called out to the now silent hall… "Harry Potter."

The look on Harry's face became a mixture of stunned disbelief and horror… he turned to his two friends, looking terrified, but they just stared at him in amazement.

"Harry Potter!" he repeated, startled at how calm he sounded when he was feeling anything but calm. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

For a moment, it looked as if Harry forgot how to move. But he was finally able to get to his feet, and stumbled slightly as he walked up to him as if in a daze. It seemed to take an age for Harry to reach them, and by then, Albus had no idea what he could say or do to get Harry out of this.

"Well… through the door, Harry," he croaked softly when he had come near him, unable to say anything else as fear continued to flood through him. Harry stumbled off to the chamber behind them. Once he was out of sight, Albus shook himself awake. He took command, all his serene feelings now long gone, and told all the other students to return to their dorms, as Karkaroff and Madame Maxime did the same for their own students. Albus turned to his factuality, all of them half risen from their seats and silently asked them to take charge. They understood the message and they all got up, leading all the children out of the Great Hall.

Albus on the other hand was unaware of what was happening around him. He just stood there, the bit of charred parchment clenched tightly in his hand. A million thoughts now passing through his mind; theories to how this could've happened and why, as well as some possible way he could somehow get Harry out of this tournament…

Only when the hall was empty except for himself, Minerva, Severus, Alastor, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Ludo Bagman, and Barty Crouch did he snap out of his endless thoughts.

Ludo had quickly gone on ahead to check on the champions and tell them what had just happened. The others crowded around him, demanding for some explanation, but Albus had none to give them. It was only with resentment did he silently followed Ludo with all the others behind him.

Albus has clearly known all year that Voldemort has been planning something involving Harry… the problem was that he had no idea what that was or when it would happen. It became clear to him since last year that the signs have been pointing in a very dangerous direction. Bertha Jorkins has vanished in Albania; Frank Bryce has disappeared at the Riddle House; Harry's scar is hurting; and the prophecy predicting Voldemort's imminent return to power.

Ever since then, he had been more careful, taking more precautions than he ever had before. Everything he thought would help to keep Harry safe…

Albus knew better than anybody that if Voldemort is indeed on the road to recovery, he almost certainly has a plan. Voldemort _always_ had a plan. And since the day Voldemort was vanquished by an infant Harry Potter, Albus has known that Voldemort's next plan would involve the boy.

But all he had been able to do was wait for a hint for what Voldemort was planning…

And does he ever get a hint…

Harry's name comes out of the Goblet of Fire…

Which means that, not only does Voldemort have a plan, but that his plan—whatever it may be—is working.

**(So now the tournament had begun and Dumbledore's worst fear has just come to passed. Sorry for the wait, but the farther we go into the years, the harder it becomes to write. I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter however and I'll be putting up the next one soon hopefully. Thanks again…)**


	37. The Tournament Begins

**Chapter 37: The Tournament Begins**

Albus led the way into the antechamber where Harry, Ludo, and the other champions were waiting. As soon as they entered, Fleur Delacour strode over to her headmistress and said hotly, "Madame Maxime! Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"

Harry shot her a dark look but didn't say anything—in truth, he looked as if he was about to be sick. Before Albus could say anything, Madame Maxime filled with air and turned directly to him. She then commanded, "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?"

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," Karkaroff said coldly.

'_That makes three of us, Igor,'_ Albus thought to himself, still filled with worry.

"_Two_ Hogwarts champions?" Karkaroff continued and he spat out the name of the school as if it was a filthy word. "I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions – or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

He gave a short and nasty laugh and Madame Maxime went on, "C'est impossible. 'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore. Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

Albus hardly heard that last part. He was focused on trying to figure that out as well. He had drawn that Age Line himself, and he knew that he didn't make a mistake. There was no way that Harry could've made it over the line on his own.

Just then, Severus stepped forward. Albus fought a sigh. He had a feeling that this wasn't going to help matters and sure enough… "It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff. Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here -"

Albus had enough to worry about with Severus making it worse. He then said firmly, "Thank you, Severus." Even though Severus stopped talking, he sent a nasty smirk in Harry's direction. Albus wasn't so sure if the boy had seen it, but he had more pressing matters to deal with at the moment.

Albus turned to Harry and asked in as calm a voice he could muster, "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?"

"No," Harry said and Albus believed him. He didn't need to look into the boys mind to see that—the scared, desperate look in his eyes said it all. He ignored Snape who snorted quietly, and asked for the other's benefit, "Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?"

"No," said Harry strongly. And while Albus knew this was true as well, the others on the other hand…

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime at once, refusing to believe it. Severus was now also shaking his head with his lip curling as if he could believe that there could be any other explanation.

To his relief, Minerva came to his defense and said in a sharp voice that addressed them all. "He could not have crossed the Age Line. I am sure we are all agreed on that -"

Madame Maxime came up with another idea, "Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line."

This he highly doubted but said coolly, "It is possible, of course." But he knew better than anyone that this couldn't have been the issue here. Harry wasn't anywhere near the Great Hall after he went up to bed last night… his portraits would've told him this first thing in the morning.

Minerva looked aghast that he could even say that. "Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" she then glared at Severus for his lack of help and finished by saying, "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

He was glad that she thought so as well. At least he had one person on his side. But it became clear to him that Karakaroff wasn't going to see it that way, "Mr. Crouch… Mr. Bagman, you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Ludo looked nervous and looked over at Barty for help. But Barty seemed almost… out of it. His face half hidden in shadows as he stood in the background—this wasn't like the Barty Crouch he knew. He was surprised, and also slightly disturbed by this.

The Barty Crouch he knew would've been demanding the truth and asking all the questions, but he hardly said a word all evening. This wasn't like him at all… and now that he looked more closely, he thought that Barty looked a little… ill. Albus knew that he had been working overtime at the office since the World Cup… but he always had taken very good care of himself. But before Albus could ask, he said in his usual curt voice as if nothing was wrong.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

Now that sounded more like the Crouch he knew, but he was still worried about him. But no one else seemed to have noticed anything and Ludo looked said brightly, "Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front."

But Karakaroff wasn't going to be given in without a fight. "I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students." He looked furious as he glared at them all. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

Ludo quickly explained, "But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that. The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"

"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" Igor suddenly yelled, looking ready to walk out here and now. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

Albus had no idea how to explain how he _couldn't_ explain what was going on. But he knew that this was an empty threat as well…

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a familiar low voice from near the door. Albus looked up to see Alastor Moody limping in the room. Good, if anyone could tell Igor what to do it would be him. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

Albus nodded to him—having been worried for the Durmstrang champion as well. Karkaroff wouldn't put one of his students in harm's way like this.

"Convenient?" Karkaroff repeated. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

While he talked tough, Albus could see that he was shaking. Even after all these years, it looked as if he still harbored a fear of Alastor Moody.

"Don't you?" Alastor asked as he turned his magical eye onto him. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

Madame Maxime scoffed and said coldly, "Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!"

Karkaroff bowed low to her in agreement, "I quite agree, Madame Maxime. I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards -"

Alastor looked annoyed and growled, "If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter but… funny thing… I don't hear him saying a word…"

At that, Albus turned back to Harry to see still standing stock still, as if he was afraid to say what he was thinking.

"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur, stamping her foot like a child. "E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," Alastor suggested coolly.

This was a thought that Albus knew was quite possible, but still—to hear it said out loud caused him to feel as if a strong hand had gripped his heart tightly. Ludo on the other hand said nervously to Alastor, "Moody, old man… what a thing to say!"

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly, turning his distain back onto his old enemy. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons."

Albus could see that Alastor was angry, but he hid it well. He said in a calm, but threatening voice, "Imagining things, am I? Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet…"

Exasperated Madame Maxime flung her hands up, "Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?"

Alastor then began to speak as if he thought he was talking to a toddler. "Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object! It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament… I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category…"

Albus had already thought that over and agreed that had to be the best explanation. Only an incredibly powerful wizard could've done it… but who? If Voldemort was behind this, then the most reasonable guess is that he had sent one of his Death Eater's to do this… but he could only think of a few who would be powerful enough to do that… most of which are still in Azkaban.

Karkaroff jeered and said, "You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody and a very ingenious theory it is - though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock."

Albus would've smiled if the situation wasn't so grave; he heard about that little incident. "So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously…"

Alastor looked at Igor with such hatred and spoke in a menacing voice that the temperature in the chamber seemed to have drop. "There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage. It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember…"

Worried that he might say something about Karkaroff's past and make things worse, Albus said in warning, "Alastor!" And while Alastor fell silent, he gave Karakaroff a look of satisfaction as if the battle had been won.

Albus than spoke to the whole room and put an end to it. "How this situation arose, we do not know," though he wish he did. And feeling as if these words were being wretched from his soul said, "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do…"

It was the last thing he wanted, but what other choice did he have?

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr -"

Tired of the constant arguing, he said wearily, "My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

He hoped against hope that she did know of a way to get around it, but the only thing she did was glare. She wasn't the only one either… Severus and Karkaroff both looked ready to kill. Ludo however, looked rather excited. And for some reason, Albus felt the need to hit him.

He then said in a winning voice that didn't help his mood, "Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

Barty seemed to come out of thought and said in his usual tone, "Yes, instructions. Yes… the first task…"

Albus watched miserably as Barty moved closer to the fire before he blinked in surprise to see the dark shadows beneath his eyes and his pale face that made him look older than he was. "The first task is designed to test your daring," Barty went on normally, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important."

Well, Harry should have an advance in that category then. After all he is very good at getting out of tight situations and showing courage and strength in times of danger. However the thought did little to cheer him up.

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament."

Albus bit his lower lip in worry, knowing full well what was about to come.

"The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands," Barty went on. "And they will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

He turned back towards Albus and asked rather vaguely, "I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

Albus was mildly surprise at that. Barty never forgot anything. "I think so," he said slowly. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

Predictably, Barty shook his head. "No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry. It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment… I've left young Weatherby in charge… Very enthusiastic… a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told…"

Albus privately agreed. But said instead, just to make sure that he'll be alright, "You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?"

Ludo walked forward and said brightly, "Come on, Barty, I'm staying! It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

Once again, Albus had an image of throttling Ludo for his joyful attitude in light of everything that has happened. He himself, was far from feeling happy…

"I think not, Ludo," Barty said impatiently, sounding much more like himself.

Albus turned back to the other two heads of schools and, attempting to make peace, said, "Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap?"

Not too surprising, Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room—Albus could hear them both talking angrily in French through the now empty Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they left without a word.

Trying to say something, he said to the two remaining champions with a forced smile, "Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed. I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Harry looked at Cedric and they left—but Albus could see from anxious look on his face that Harry wasn't in the mood to celebrate… well, that made two of them.

*Later that night*

Albus was sitting up in his darkened office long after everyone else had gone to bed he was sure. He was pouring over his pensieve, watching his thoughts and memories swirl around in front of him. What he wanted more than anything right now was to be alone in an empty office so that he could try and think, however his office was anything but empty.

Minerva was pacing the room anxiously—she was wringing her hands with a restless look on her face, Severus was standing in a corner watching her calmly as he hadn't a care in the world, and then there was Alastor standing closest to the door, his eye swirling around and keeping everyone in sight.

For the last half an hour no one said a word… as if afraid that one of them would snap at each other. Minerva finally stopped pacing and looked back at him, "Albus," she said in such a tone that he knew that she couldn't take this silence any longer. "You know as well as I do that this can't just be some fluke. First the Dark Mark at the World Cup… and now this? You can't just sit by and let this happen!"

Albus sighed and finally looked up at her, sadness in his face. "What do you suggest we do, Minerva?" Desperate for any ideas for a way out of this as he was, he knew that there wasn't one except for Harry to compete.

She glared at him as if he had planned all this to happen. "Put an end to it! Don't let Potter compete! There must be something that you can do! You know as well as I do what he'll be up against this year! Dragons for the first task, surviving in the lake for an hour in the second, and a maze filled with who knows what! There has to be a way out of this…"

Albus sighed again and shook his head grimly. "I wish I could, Minerva. The reason I insisted on the Age Line in the first place was to prevent something like this from happening. If only I had someone stand guard over the goblet last night…" he trailed off. Cursing his own carelessness he then said, "But you heard what Barty said, they have to compete. I have no choice but to allow them to."

"Well, the devil with the Ministry and their rules!" Minerva snapped back as if she couldn't care less what anyone from the Ministry said anymore. "And since when do you put up the Ministry?"

Severus chose that moment to walk up and interrupt. "I must confess that I too find it difficult to find it a mere coincidence," he said silkily. "However, if we are to truly discover the truth behind these events… I think that we should… for the time being… let them unfold."

Minerva looked horrified and gave him a hard look. "What?" she demanded. "Do nothing? Offer him up as bait? Potter is a boy, not a piece of meat. I know that he had pulled off many impressive things since he arrived here, however he's now only fourteen. He'll be eaten alive if we just leave him on his own!"

Feeling sickened with himself, Albus said resentfully, "I agree… with Severus."

Minerva turned back to stare at him as if she was seeing him for the first time. "Albus… you can't truly…?"

"Minerva," he said tiredly. "You know that the Ministry isn't the problem. It's the fact that Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire. I know for a fact that he never left the dormitory after he went up with everyone. My portraits have been keeping a close watch on the hallways last night, and they have informed me of the few students who have put their names in last night. But they never saw Harry leave the Gryffindor common room. Which means that someone else is doing this."

"Albus," Minerva said quietly. "You don't think… that _he's_ behind this do you?"

Albus didn't need to ask her who _he_ was. He took his time in answering before he finally said, not looking up from the pensieve, "The moment I read Harry's name, I've been running through countless possibilities in my mind. Even if Harry did put his name in—which he didn't," he added to Severus who merely raised his eyebrows.

"There isn't a way that his name would've come out as a fourth champion," he finished. "Not without some powerful advance magic. Harry's name couldn't have been entered under Hogwarts, as a champion had already been called for. And so, whoever did enter Harry's name would have to have used a pretty strong spell to get the Goblet to recognize a fourth school."

"But Albus, who?" Minerva asked fearfully.

"If we knew that, we would have a great deal of questions answered for us, Minerva," Albus sighed. "I've checked with Harry to make sure, but it's obvious that Harry had nothing to do with this. And if Harry didn't put his name in, then why was his name in there at all? There's nothing else for it. Voldemort is behind it. And somebody at Hogwarts is working for him."

Silence filled the room. Minerva looked horrified, and the smirk on Severus's face faded. Alastor of course didn't look surprised at all—obviously suspecting all this already."

"Of course," Albus went on. "The questions are who and why. I've thought about it, but I just can't think up too many other possibilities. There are lots of students around, but Voldemort isn't strong enough to be recruiting new followers. His Death Eaters clearly don't know that he is still out there. And there's almost no way a student could be responsible – and besides, precious few could have managed to Confund the Goblet anyway."

He sighed again before he finally looked at them all. "I don't know how," he told them. "But Voldemort is pulling the strings. Please, I want all of you to be extra vigilant. Report to me anything at all that is out of the ordinary, anything that looks suspicious, or anyone acting strangely. And… all of you keep an eye on Harry for me. But don't let him know…" he added in a softer voice, "he must be anxious enough as it is without knowing that he's being closely watched… then again, all of us are."

They all nodded—Minerva especially—and he was glad to see that they all left after that. He looked up at Dexter and asked for news.

"Diggory made it back to his common room safely," he said. "Though they were saying some fairly unpleasant things about Potter."

Albus frowned, knowing full well that this was bound to happen.

"Speaking of Potter, he's in bed now," Dexter went on. "I admit that I was a little suspicious that he might've done something… but after seeing him in the common room, I know now that he didn't do it."

"What makes you so sure?" Phineas asked snidely.

"Because if he did," Dexter snapped back, "Then he would at least want to tell his friends how he did it… enjoy himself a little… but he sure didn't look happy. He kept saying over and over that he didn't do anything, but no one wanted to listen. He just wanted to go up to bed… felt real bad for him by the time he finally was able to get away."

"People can be remarkably thoughtless when they choose to be. I believe that they wanted a hero so they created one whether or not Harry wanted to or not," said Albus sadly.

He fell silent and became lost in his thoughts… staring into the depths of his pensieve. He was so lost here… usually he had some idea to what was going on, but this time he had none. Albus is missing something. And it's clearly something big. He has a list of possibilities… but of course this list, too, is surprisingly short.

Almost all of Voldemort's Death Eaters are either dead, in Azkaban, or – like Lucius Malfoy – out in the wizarding world, continuing to live their lives. Given the size of the wizarding world, not to mention his connections, it wouldn't be hard for him to confirm that they are in fact _still_ leading their lives. Lucius Malfoy, Macnair, Avery, Yaxley, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle… none of them are hanging around Hogwarts… besides, most of them aren't that powerful to confuse the Goblet anyway…

There's one exception, of course: Wormtail. He's able be near his master full time because he's presumed dead. But Albus also knew that Voldemort would need Wormtail close by; it wouldn't make much sense for him to be spending his days at Hogwarts, either.

So through a process of elimination… he had three candidates… Barty Crouch, Igor Karkaroff, and Ludo Bagman… Barty Crouch is hanging around, but he's spent his life _fighting_ Death Eaters so he can't in good coincidence believe that he had something to do with this. Igor seemed furious when Harry's name came out but then again he had always been a talented actor… and Ludo really doesn't seem to be the kind to do this…

None of them seem to any motive to do so… but one is a former Death Eater, and another was at least accused once of working for Voldemort as well…

But there is a chance that someone here is under the Imperius Curse or maybe even Polyjuice Potion here inside Hogwarts.

But that's a challenge there, too because only a handful of people will be able to impersonate or control someone for a long period of time. Even Karkaroff and Maxime have to know their students, and even the first years (who might not know anyone at Hogwarts) still have to be able to write home. So the only real possibilities for this would seem to be Barty Crouch and, again, Ludo Bagman.

Albus remembered how ill that Barty seemed to look these days and vowed to keep a close watch on all three of them, until this case is settled.

Albus didn't go to bed that night… he merely sat there in his seat, ignoring his portraits as he continued to pour over every possible idea… anything that might prevent anyone else from getting hurt before it's too late.

*The next day* 

The sun was shining into the windows before Albus had been able to drag himself from his thoughts at long last. He was exhausted to say the least, and felt the need to sleep… but his mind was still working.

He forced himself to leave his desk, change into clean robes and go downstairs to speak with the other two Heads of the schools and his staff. He wasn't at all surprised to see that Harry hadn't come down at all for breakfast. He looked up at the Gryffindor table to see Ronald sitting with his brothers and looking angry. Hermione sat a few seats away before she gathered up a stack of toast and left.

He heard later on from his portraits that she and Harry went for a walk around the lake—most likely talking about what happened last night. He spent most of breakfast trying to talk to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime… but he might've been talking to his fork and knife for all the good that it did.

He went wearily up the stairs and planned to go straight to bed and get a few hours sleep. But when he got back up to his office, he learned some more sad news.

"Weasley doesn't believe him," Everard told him. "I can't believe it. He really thinks that Harry put his name into the Goblet and that he wanted all the attention. After all they went through together, he actually turns on him like this…?"

Albus sighed. He could understand this… he knew that from when Ronald Weasley looked into the Mirror of Erised nearly three years ago. With all those brothers to compete with at home, he must've had a great deal of trouble getting the upper hand. To stand out… and his best friend is one of the most famous people in the wizarding world.

However, his desire for attention such as Harry gets is blinding him to the truth. And while he could understand, he still felt that this only made things worse.

"And now?" he asked softly as he put his pensieve away. "What are they doing now?"

"Weasley's sulking in the common room," he answered bitterly. "And last I saw them, Harry and Granger were heading up to the owlery to send a letter to Sirius."

Albus groaned. That's right… after everything that happened, he had forgotten about Sirius. He would have to send a warning to Sirius as well to prevent him from doing something stupid. Knowing how protective Sirius was of his godson, it wouldn't surprise him at all if Sirius did something like coming back to Hogwarts and… he shivered. He didn't want to think about that.

He decided to quickly write a letter to Sirius as well… to let him know everything that was going on and to stay where he was… if Sirius didn't snap already and kill him first.

*Couple days later*

As Albus thought, the rest of the school was, once again, giving Harry a hard time. The boy spent the rest of the weekend avoiding everyone except for Hermione, but now that he was back at in class, Albus was truly beginning to see just how cruel that children could be.

It was a case of déjà vu… very like how terrible it was during the Chamber of Secrets scare and everyone believed that he was the heir of Slytherin.

No matter what Harry said or did, everyone was convinced that he entered the tournament himself and he somehow hoodwinked the Goblet to except his name.

The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, seemed to have grown to hate every single one of them over night. And he heard from Hagrid how hard the Slytherins were giving Harry during their lessons.

Especially Draco Malfoy.

Albus shook his head, hating how helpless he was feeling—how he was unable to prevent this happening. He should've thought to have at least a couple teachers watching the Goblet that night… if invisibly.

He was silently grateful that Harry had friends like Hermione and Hagrid there for him… now if only Ron would realize he made a mistake. He knew that his jealously was clouding this thoughts and actions… he had hoped that maybe once he calmed down and thought over everything he knew about his friend then he would apologize…

He knew that being away from his best friend was hard for Ron as well as for Harry.

Hagrid had just left after a quick interview with him about his Skrewts. Albus had suggested several times that he let him deal with them, but Hagrid insisted that he could handle it. Albus had told Hagrid the morning after Halloween what he had thought and Hagrid had told him that it didn't seem fair how everything happened to Harry.

Albus sighed as he looked out the window at the bright sky. Yes… everything seemed to happen to that one boy. Everyone expected so much from him… but so easily turns against him. As if they could so easily forget what had happened the last three years already…

Things just seemed to have gotten worse. He silently cursed himself for thinking of the Triwizard Tournament. Instead of creating unity, it just seemed to be pulling them all apart. The Hufflepuffs were usually the most open and excepting… had not turned against everyone else. Then there were the Ravenclaws who decided to turn their support towards Cedric and shunning the Gryffindors as well. And of course Slytherin was acting as prejudice as it always did.

If only he never thought of hosting the tournament…

*Weighing of the Wands*

The day had come for the Weighing of the Wands ceremony to ensure that the champion's wands are in proper working order for the tournament. Albus had sent a request to Garrick Ollivander to come here personally and look them over—which he was only too happy to do.

He had sent a couple students to fetch Harry and Cedric from their class and he went down to the front entrance to meet Ollivander.

By the time that he got back up to one of the spare classrooms, he could see three of the champions there as well as Ludo, Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. He courteously showed Ollivander into the room and asked Ludo where Harry was.

"Rita wanted a quick word," Ludo said happily as if it wasn't anything serious.

Rita Skeeter? Who invited her here? Now Albus knew how notorious that Rita was for causing unnecessary trouble for countless people and he knew that nothing good was going to come of it. Edgy, he went to go find them though that didn't take long because all too soon he heard Harry's voice yell from a closed broom cupboard, "I have NOT got tears in my eyes!"

Not liking this one bit he quickly opened door of the broom cupboard and looked in to see Harry blinking in the bright light.

"Dumbledore!" cried Rita looking delighted, but Albus could see that she was quickly stuffing her quill and parchment into her crocodile-skin bag. "How are you?" she asked as if nothing happened and held out one of her hands to him. "I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"

"Enchantingly nasty," he informed her. He always found journal articles about him rather amusing; he was far too used to criticism and insults to let it bother him anymore. "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat."

Rita Skeeter didn't look remotely embarrassed as she said causally, "I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little old-fashioned, Dumbledore, and that many wizards in the street -"

"I will be delighted to hear the reasoning behind the rudeness, Rita," he cut her off with a bow and a smile, but wanting to get her away from Harry before she did something that would make things harder on them all. "But I'm afraid we will have to discuss the matter later. The Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if one of our champions is hidden in a broom cupboard."

Harry hurried back into the room to join the others as Albus and Rita followed. The other champions were now sitting in chairs near the door—Viktor especially looking like he would like nothing to more than leave. Harry quickly took the empty seat next to Cedric, and near the table were the other judges were sitting there.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Rita was lurking in the corner with her Quick-Quotes Quill ready at hand. Once they were all there, he turned to the champions, and made introductions. "May I introduce Mr. Ollivander? He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

They all looked to the window where Ollivander was standing and a few of them jumped in surprise. Albus smiled at his friend, knowing that Ollivander loved scaring people like that for a impressive first impression. He came closer and stepped into the empty space in the middle of the room. He cleared his throat and asked, "Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?"

Fleur Delacour gracefully got to her feet and almost glided over to him and held her wand out.

He smiled at her brightly before turning his full attention to her wand. "Hmm…" he muttered as he began the usual procedure of checking the wand. He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks, looking satisfied. Finally, he held it chose to his eyes and examined it carefully.

"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me…"

Albus looked curiously at him, wondering what he found so fascinating when Fleur answered, "An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela. One of my grandmuzzer's."

Albus looked at her with new interest—to have a hair from one of your grandparents in your own wand? Now that is very special indeed. Ollivander looked impressed as well and said, "Yes, yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands… however, to each his own, and if this suits you…"

He then muttered, "Orchideous!" and handed over a bouquet of spring flowers to her. "Very well, very well, it's in fine working order. Mr. Diggory, you next."

He looked more eager as he took Cedric's wand. "Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it? Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn… must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail."

That sounds like an exciting story that he had to hear; Albus made a mental note to ask him once this was over. "Twelve and a quarter inches… ash… pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition… You treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning.

Albus wasn't paying much attention to what happened around him until saw several gold sparks shot out of the end of Harry's wand. And he briefly wondered if his wand was working correctly; however, Ollivander didn't seem to notice this as he sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand and said that it was still in wonderful working order.

"Mr. Krum, if you please," he said as Cedric happily went back to his seat. Viktor then slouched, rather duck-footed and held his wand out with a scowl.

"Hmm," Ollivander said as Viktor continued to look grumpy—as if he rather be anywhere but here. "This is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken?"

Albus looked up suddenly at the name, having remembered his own connection to him… having been one of the previous owners of the Elder wand which had been stolen by… he shook his head lightly. Trying not think about that as he heard Ollivander say, "A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I… however…"

Albus smiled lightly at his causal tone, knowing that Ollivander and Gregorovitch had been having a friendly rivalry for many years. He watched as Ollivander continued to exam it.

"Yes… hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he asked and then went on. "Rather thicker than one usually sees… quite rigid… ten and a quarter inches… Avis!" With a bang, number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window and through the clear, blue sky.

"Good," said Ollivander, giving it back happily. "Which leaves… Mr. Potter."

Harry slowly got to his feet and walked up to Ollivander.

"Aaaah, yes," he said smiling as he took the wand and seemed to become lost in memories as he said almost distantly, "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember."

Albus remembered as well. The connection between the twin wands was something that had always fascinated him… several decades ago, Ollivander learned that he owned a phoenix and had asked for a couple feathers one day. Albus had been only too happy to oblige and Ollivander had been able to create two perfect wands.

He also remembered clearly so long ago when Ollivander wrote to him to inform him of how the first wand had been chosen by Tom Riddle.

And then he thought back to that day when he had been sitting in his office relaxing four summers ago, relaxing and enjoying his free time; when all of a sudden there was a large screech owl tapping at his window. Curious, he recalled how he had opened the window and took the small letter—he had opened it by the time he got back to his desk.

_Dear Albus,_

_I know that it has been a long time since I've written, but I have some exciting news. Do you recall years ago when you so graciously gave me the two phoenix feathers? The first had been chosen by You-Know-Who when he had come to my shop so long ago. I was beginning to think that the second wand would never chose a wizard… but just this morning, the holly wand had finally chosen one… and you might find this interesting as it has just been bought by none other than the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter._

_I think that we can expect great things from this young man—and one of the trickiest customers I've ever had. I think we must've gone through almost every wand in my shop until I finally decided to give this a try. It is a very curious thing that this had happened though don't you agree? The wand has always chosen the wizard… but I can't help but feel a certain sense of… destiny don't you?_

_Hope you are doing well…_

_Respectfully yours,_

_Garrick Ollivander_

When Ollivander contacted him about the yew wand, Albus had already met the young Tom Riddle. He remembered how surprised he had been to have heard that… though of course, at the time, how could he have known what that young boy would grow up to be?

By the time he had sent Hagrid to fetch Harry and to help him do his shopping, he had long since forgotten about the second wand until that letter. When he first learned about how two opposite people have chosen twin wands… he knew that only Ollivander and himself knew of the importance of this. However, he really hoped that his old friend wouldn't tell the room this little piece of information. Rita Skeeter's would no doubt have it in the front page by tomorrow and that they didn't need.

Ollivander spent a long time looking over Harry's wand, checking every inch of it until he finally conquered a fountain of wine from the end and gave it back.

Glad that it was over, Albus walked up and said, "Thank you all. You may go back to your lessons now - or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end-"

But as they got up to leave, Ludo called out, "Photos, Dumbledore, photos! All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Er - yes, let's do those first," said Rita, looking at Harry in a way that Albus didn't like. "And then perhaps some individual shots."

After several hours of trying to figure out where everyone stood, Viktor was hiding in the background, twice the photographer tried to bring Fleur to the front only for Rita to run up and drag Harry out as well.

Once Albus declared that they were done, the champions practically ran out of the room in relief. He bid good day to the other judges as he accompanied Ollivander back to the front doors.

"I appreciate you coming here on such short notice," Albus said to him.

"Please," Ollivander replied with a wave of his hand. "It was my pleasure. Don't get as much business during the school year as I do during the summer, so it's not that I had much to do today."

Albus chuckled. When they were out on the grounds, he asked, "I noticed that you spent a great deal of time looking over Mr. Potter's wand?"

Ollivander smiled mysteriously. "I'm sorry. It's just that it's always a joy to see one of my wands again. Each one of them is like my children who have left home… impossible to forget them you know… and always glad to see them again. Especially, when you've held onto a wand as old as Mr. Potters. It had been in my shop for over fifty years… and when Mr. Potter came in that day… I knew that it couldn't have been coincidence."

"Yes," Albus nodded sagely. "I don't think that coincidences don't happen without a reason."

"As I told you before," Ollivander said thoughtfully, "I believe that we must expect great things from that boy…"

"Yes," Albus said more to himself than to Ollivander. "And he has certainly risen to the challenge." Ollivander looked politely puzzled, so rather than explain, Albus asked him the story about his fight with that male unicorn which his friend was only too happy to explain in great detail.

**(Aww… how sweet don't you think? Sorry for such a long wait, but as I mentioned before, the further we go on in the books, the harder it is to write. Next chapter we get to the first task! Wonder how Dumbledore is going to react to this?)**


	38. Dragons and Elves

**Chapter 38: Dragons and Elves**

Albus had escorted Ollivander to the front gates and bid him a fond farewell before he decided to head back up to his office and finish what felt like the millionth letter to the Ministry. Albus had searched and searched, but he had come up empty for trying to find some kind of loophole or any other way to get Harry out of this mess.

He felt tired and weak as he collapsed into his comforting seat… though his mood didn't change one bit after he heard a disturbing bit of news about one member of his own staff.

He heard a great deal of complaints about Severus lately, but this finally topped them all and made even someone as patience as him seethe with anger. He had heard how terrible the Slytherins have been treating Harry—as if punishing him for something he had no control over. He had tried again and again to talk to Severus about controlling his students, but either he wasn't listening, or didn't care for it only continued to happen.

He had seen the Slytherins walk around with SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY badges and knew that those would only serve to make things even worse. And as he thought, they only served to pull the school apart and caused more diversity than ever. But what he heard today drew the line.

"He called Granger a Mudblood again!" Dilys said in outrage. "I swear that Malfoy boy has to be one of the worst, spoiled children I've ever seen!"

"Perhaps you just heard wrong," Phineas suggested coolly.

Albus ignored Phineas and asked what happened before Dilys could shriek insults at him.

"Malfoy insulted Hermione and Harry seemed to have snapped," she informed him. Albus nodded thoughtfully, knowing just how much more important Hermione's friendship was to Harry seeing that she was one of the only few who believed him. And with Ron now refusing to talk to him, Harry would become more protective over her, and all this anger he was forced to bear could've have been helping.

"Harry and Malfoy both tried to curse each other. Harry's spell hit Goyle and Malfoy's spell hit Hermione. Snape told Goyle to go up to the hospital wing," Dilys then said.

"What did he do?" Albus asked in concern.

"Grew fungi on his face," she said angrily. "But do you know what Snape said to Hermione? She was hit with a growing charm and her teeth started to grow and he said that he saw no difference. She then went running off to the hospital crying!"

Albus felt his anger grow towards Severus at those words. "I will have a word about this to Severus," he said coldly, and the temperature in the room dropped. "Showing favoritism I cannot stop, but when he treats the students like this…"

"And when Harry and Ron started yelling at him, he took fifty points and detention for them both," she went on.

"I had wondered that when I passed the hourglasses," Albus nodded tightly. He knew that Severus's dislike towards the trio had only grown since Sirius's escape last year, but to take it out on Remus was bad enough. "Anything else?" he asked, determined to get every detail.

"Not if you count that Potter got a letter from Black after the Weighing of the Wands today," she told him at last. "Said that he wants to talk to him through the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one in the morning on the 22nd of November?"

Albus groaned. He should've known that Sirius would pull something like this. He quickly fished out a quill and wrote a letter quickly informing him of the danger he will be in and try to talk him out of it—though his hopes weren't high. Once Sirius had decided to do something, no one and nothing can stop him. But he had to try.

Once he was finished, he handed the message to Fawkes and told him to bring it to Sirius immediately. Albus watched until Fawkes became a fireball and disappeared before he ran a tired hand through his beard. He was getting to old for this.

*Couple weeks later*

Albus had a lot to worry about for the next two weeks. The first task was drawing steadily nearer; and the idea that a fourteen-year-old was going up against a dragon unnerved him to say the least. Harry seemed as nervous as well—which he should. Albus would've been concerned if Harry hadn't been.

Another thing was Sirius. He had received a message from the fugitive telling him that he needed to see Harry with his own eyes and nothing that Albus could say would change his mind. But he had promised that he would be careful. Now that he was free, he wasn't going to back to Azkaban anytime soon.

So Albus had suggested a wizarding house whose occupants, he knew, would be out that night, but he clearly told Sirius to make it quick.

His portraits had also informed him about Harry and Hermione's plans to drop a bag of Dungbombs should anyone else be in the common room that night. While he figured that it was a good idea, he hoped that it wouldn't be necessary.

But for now, Harry was going through an even tougher time in the castle all thanks to Rita Skeeter. She had published her piece about the Triwizard Tournament, who merely wrote an article that was filled with nothing but lies and humiliate the poor boy.

She once again twisted everything that a person said and now Harry was going out of his way to hide from the rest of the school. From the moment the article had come out, Harry had been forced to hear insults, sneering comments, and tears of laughter whenever he had to walk past them.

Hermione was there with him, constantly telling him to ignore it—but Albus knew that was easier said than done. Ron still wasn't talking to him, the school mocked him, and now he was forced to endure the prophet as well as the tournament. Desperate to do something, he had banned Rita from ever coming onto the grounds again. But it did little good.

To his relief, he heard that Harry was going to Hogsmeade with Hermione on Saturday, but he would also be going under his cloak. Personally, he thought that it would be good for him to get out of the castle and not have to worry about anyone giving him a hard time. Though he felt sorry for Hermione as well. He had a feeling that her friends not speaking to each other hadn't been easy for her either.

The three of them were strongest as a team, and with them divided like this almost broke his heart. He hoped that they would make up soon…

However, later on that day, he learned something very strange when Dexter reported back to him.

"Hagrid wants Harry to what?" he asked, wondering if he heard wrong.

"He wants him to meet him at midnight at his hut," he reported with a shrug. "Some timing eh? The same night that Black wants to meet him and everything."

"It might make him late for Sirius if he goes," Albus said anxiously. "_Is_ he going?"

"He says that he's going to check real quick," Dexter said with a shrug. "Hagrid's never asked him to do so before and he thought that it would be important. Dumbledore, what is it about?"

Albus however had a feeling what it was about… though he pretended not to have the slightest clue as he went down to breakfast.

*The next day*

Albus had awoken early the next day only for Dexter to tell him what Harry saw last night. And as he thought, Hagrid had seen the dragons.

"Should've known that oaf would break the rules and help Potter cheat," Phineas said in his usual drawing voice.

"Phineas," Albus told him warningly. "Harry had no idea what Hagrid was showing him… so he wasn't cheating… more like… he found out by accident."

Phineas snorted. "Sure makes excuses for him, you always do. And who's to say that he didn't ask Hagrid to show him before hand?"

"You are determined to hate him, Phineas," Albus smiled back. "Even if you think it's cheating, it's still an honored part of the tournament. Besides, I'm sure that Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime have told their champions by now. It would only be a matter of time until they found out…" But in truth, he was glad of this. Harry needed all the help that he could get just to survive the first task and knowing beforehand was good.

"But now… it looks like the only person who doesn't know is Cedric…" he muttered to himself.

"That hardly seems fair," Dilys said worriedly. "You don't suppose you could drop in a little hint for him as well?"

"Don't you start now!" Phineas yelled at her.

Albus interrupted the fighting and asked, "Did Sirius say anything?"

"Yes," Dexter said at once. "Harry spilled his guts out to Black. Told him everything that was bothering him… how no one believed him in the tournament, how everyone is giving him a hard time, even about Ron… that's when he told him about the dragons Hagrid showed him."

Albus felt conflicted. While he was glad that Harry finally had someone he felt he could turn to, a part of him was also feeling slightly jealous. He blinked in surprise. Why was he feeling that way? He gave his head a little shake before he simply told them to continue to watch Harry and report anything they find and how his progress was going. But after he left his office, he concluded that he was working too hard and that his anxiety for a child to be in the tournament was just getting to him.

But for some reason, those feelings didn't go away completely even long after he went to bed that night.

*A couple days later*

He had watched Harry and Hermione spend endless hours in the library pouring over every book on dragons they could find. It wasn't going to be easy. While dragon skin can resist most spells, while only some spells can affect dragons if aimed at the right spot, or if cast by several people at once.

The Conjunctivitus Curse for example… or a Stunning Spell however only multiple wizards casting it would have any effect… there was no telling what any of the champions would do. But he heard with great pride that Harry had told Cedric about them the very next day.

"Caused Diggory's bag to split and just walked right up to him and told him about the dragons when everyone else left," Everard smirked.

"That was very noble of him," Albus said smiling.

"Actually, I think that Harry just thought it was unfair that Cedric wasn't having nightmares like the rest of them," he teased and Albus laughed, though it was a little forced.

"So now they all know," Albus said, feeling a slight relief. But knowing about the dragons was the easy part. They still have to get past them.

"Yeah," Everard spoke up. And he also looked relieved. "And that was when Mad-Eye appeared."

Albus frowned. "What happened?" he asked worried, wondering what his old friend had done now.

"Took him to his office and gave the boy some advice," Everard shrugged.

"Oh?" Albus asked raising his eyebrows. "And what, pray tell, did he say?"

"He talked a little bit about how human you are, Dumbledore," he smirked.

Albus really did laugh at that. "Yes, Alastor has gone out of his way to remind people that I am human and far from infallible."

"He came right out and told Harry how to get past the dragons… well almost," Everard went on.

Albus felt his jaw drop. "What?"

"Well, he told Potter that he had strengths if he said he did," he said with a shrug. "And reminded Potter how good he was at Quidditch."

"Which means…" Albus said slowly, and then he brightened. _Flying_! Of course, Harry was going to fly. But in order to do so he needed his broom which meant… a Summoning Charm! Brilliant! But his happiness was muffled slightly by Alastor's behavior. That wasn't like him at all. He preferred to push people to their limits to see how well they did, but to give them a hint like that?

That concerned him a little. But other than that, Alastor wasn't acting any differently than normal. Sure, maybe a little less talkative, but he never was very social. He sighed and pushed those thoughts out of his mind for the moment.

So he had his portraits keep a close eye on Harry for the next day—and he was relieved to hear that he and Hermione had been practicing the charm for hours, but it wasn't until far past after midnight when they informed him that Harry finally got hang of it did Albus feel that he could get some sleep.

*The First Task*

Albus felt terrible the next day as he silently changed into his best robes and went down for his breakfast. However he didn't eat much as he sat there, mostly picking at his food. His eyes kept flying to each of the champions, trying to see how they were doing. None of them seemed to be hungry either as they also picked at their food. Not that he blamed them in the slightest.

After breakfast and the rest of the students went off to classes—the task wouldn't start until after lunch—Albus went down to the arena where the dragons would soon be dragged out. While he had helped put up a few Protective Charms on the stands to prevent any misfire hitting the students, Minerva had appeared at his side looking pale and worried.

"Albus?" she said anxiously. "I know that Potter has pulled off many amazing things since he has been here… but this? Isn't there… You can't really…?" she seemed unable to find the right words to express how scared she was for her student.

Albus sighed as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know," he said sadly. "Believe me, Minerva, I'm not any happier about this than you are. But something tells me that Harry'll do fine today. I've been keeping a close watch on him, and I think that he might have a plan. But… please, go and retrieve him once the task is about to begin. I think that he'll need as much support as we can give him."

She looked as if she wanted to say more, but if she did, she didn't bother. Probably because she knew that there wasn't anything she could do about it this time. So instead, she nodded and headed back up to the castle—though Albus could've sworn that she was wringing her hands together and looked ready to cry.

Once Albus had made sure that everything was ready, he joined the rest of the judges and took their seats as Charlie Weasley and the other dragon handlers got ready to bring out the first dragon.

He took his seat as the hundreds of students began to make their way to their seats, laughing, shrieking, and talking animatedly about what they were about to see. And when the flow of people slowed, Albus waited, as the feelings of anxiety began to rise up within him.

"You seem nervous, Dumbledore," Ludo said happily as he leaned in to talk to him.

"Of course I would be anxious, Ludo," Albus said surprisingly cold, now feeling distinctly, annoyed by Ludo's air of excitement. "Not only is one of my students here for the task, I have two. And one of my younger students has to unwillingly battle a dragon in a tournament that he didn't willingly enter."

But he might've just been talking to the table for all the good it did. He wasn't even sure that Ludo even heard him and he got up and said that he would go and check on the champions. He grabbed the bag that held the statues of the dragons and the order and went running off towards the champion's tent.

Albus took off his glasses and rubbed his exhausted eyes. How that man became Head of a Department, he'll never know.

Finally, once everyone was seated and everything was ready, Albus heard the whistle blown, signaling the start of the first task. Ludo had come running out, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet and once again, Albus felt the urge to curse him.

But that was quickly extinguished as the handlers dragged out the first dragon and the students all screamed in horror, shock, and amazement. And the one feeling that had been in his heart since Halloween returned in full.

Albus was afraid. He wasn't ashamed to admit that. The four champions have to get past a different dragon each. A Chinese Fireball, Swedish Short-Snout, Common Welsh Green, and a Hungarian Horntail… and to make them even more dangerous, they were nesting mothers. Each has a golden egg that they are protecting as well as their own… and it's the egg the champions have to retrieve.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said, "Sonorus!" He was ready to commentate, though Albus knew that this would only serve to distract and make things worse for the champions just as the dragon was released and the handlers quickly fled to safety, though ready to leap into action should need arise.

The Swedish Short-Snout snorted rings of smoke as her silvery blue scales shined in the light as she looked around her nest. She let out a small jet of brilliantly blue flames in warning towards all the people around her—as if daring them to come any nearer.

Albus knew that those blue flames were hot enough to reduce timber and bone to ashes in seconds. And is one of the most dangerous species due to its agile flying as well as its hot flames. However, it is also much less agile on the ground because of its lack of forward limbs.

Albus wondered which dragon Harry'd gotten; though silently hoped that Harry didn't get the Horntail. He swallowed nervously as the whistle blew and Cedric Diggory came out.

For a moment, it looked as if Cedric had frozen when he came face-to-face with the dragon, but a split second later, he turned his wand onto a large rock on the ground and suddenly, a large black, Labrador was there.

Albus leaned forward and watched as the dragon went after the dog with a bout of fire, but missed.

"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow…" Ludo screamed as the frustrated dragon took a solitary step from her eggs, flapping her wings angrily. Albus could hear the crowd screaming; hear Ludo's voice, louder than them all, though he can't discern what he said as his eyes stayed on Cedric.

The Hufflepuff ran in the opposite direction of the dog, and try to get a good view of what the dog is doing. On the other side of the arena, the Lab was trying to play with the dragon, running in circles then darting off when it thought the dragon might chase him.

"He's taking risks, this one!" Ludo then yelled as Cedric crept closer to the nest and Albus was praying the dog would keep the Short-Snout at bay long enough for Cedric to get the egg. But then a burst of flame hit the ground to close to the dog, and he ran off in Cedric's direction.

Cedric noticed this as well and took this moment to bolt for the egg, but too late! The Short-Snout roared, furious, and took off into the air, flapping its wings and turning her attention onto Cedric. Albus watched as Cedric ran, dived, and ducked out of the way of the flames, to his horror, Cedric raised his arm to protect himself just as the dragon's flame missed his head by a feet.

"Clever move - pity it didn't work!" and Albus wondered if he could get away with stunning Ludo and shutting him up.

Albus could smell burning hair on the air and he could see that Cedric was burned as he made a run for it. Albus was so close to getting up and putting a stop to it when just at that moment, Cedric reached the nest and scoop up the golden egg with his unburned hand. Cedric rolled away from the rest of the eggs silvery-colored eggs, hugging the golden one to his chest as he ducked, landing on his burnt side.

And then she was restrained as the handlers came charging out and stunned her, getting ready to quickly move her. Albus hear the crowd screaming louder than ever, though he kept his eyes on Cedric, who picked himself off the ground, and Pomona Sprout came running towards him from the stands looking as white as a ghost.

"Very good indeed! And now the marks from the judges!" Ludo shouted over the crowd and Albus felt the need to shake him. Cedric was burned by a dragon, they shouldn't make him stand there in pain any longer than necessary! But Cedric looked barely able to stand as he continued to hold onto the egg and was being supported by Pomona as they looked at them.

The judges all shot up their scores. A seven from Madame Maxime, an eight from Barty, and Albus sent an eight as well just as Ludo shot up a nine… finally, Karkaroff shots six into the air.

Albus shook his head at Igor, but was relieved as he watched Pomona lead Cedric towards the medical tent. Albus sighed as he watched the handlers removed the Short-Snout and returned minutes later with the smaller green one with smooth scales. The Common Welsh Green.

This dragon is a relatively subdued breed compared to most. It prefers to avoid human contact altogether if possible. The Welsh Green's roar was rather distinctive and somewhat melodious as it was dragged out and it's earthy brown eggs that were flecked with green had replaced the Short-Snouts eggs this time.

"One down, three to go!" Ludo yelled as the whistle blew again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Albus bit his lower lip. So Fleur got the Welsh Green… though, there's still the Fireball. He kept hoping that Harry would come next… the Horntail was the worst of them all for the youngest champion.

Fleur came out with her wand held tightly in her hands as she stared up at the dragon. For a moment she and the dragon just stared at each other and suddenly she raised her wand and shouted something.

A jet of silvery-green light had hit the dragon dead in the eyes and suddenly her eyes became slightly hazy. So Fleur was trying to put it into a Bewitched Sleep was she? That is a very difficult spell… and would normally have to be placed on a dragon several times before it begins to even show signs of dozing off.

Madame Maxime seemed to have realized this as well and she shifted in her seat uncomfortably as she watched her student run around the arena. "Oh I'm not sure that was wise!" Ludo shouted as Fleur dodged a jet of fire and was running around the dragon, shooting the same spell over and over again at her eyes.

She had been able to keep this up longer than Cedric had taken, continuing to duck behind rocks and boulders whenever the dragon roared, not daring dodge out any longer than she had to. "Oh… nearly! Careful now…" this time Ludo was right. Finally, the spell seemed to be taking effect and the dragon slowly began to sway slightly, as if tired.

Albus held his breath as she cast the spell one last time and the dragon slowly sank to its knees as she closed her eyes… not completely asleep but no longer aware of what was going on around her.

Fleur took this chance to run up and ducked under the dragon's wing; she had quickly made to pull the egg from the others… but just at that moment, the dragon let out a loud snore and fire shot out. Fleur screamed and ducked just in time but her skirt had caught fire. It took her about three seconds for her to realize that she was burning and she screamed even louder as she fumbled for her wand.

" good lord, I thought she'd had it then!" Ludo shouted as she dosed herself with a stream of water. Soaking wet, she grabbed the egg and ran from the sleeping dragon as fast as she could go. Albus could hear Madame Maxime sigh in relief as he applauded loudly, deeply impressed.

Fleur stood in front of the judges holding the egg to her as if it was her firstborn and they all put up their scores. She smiled brightly and Albus looked to Madame Maxime to see she was smiling proudly. She was then hurried off to the medical tent to ensure that she had no injuries as the team of wizards went out to drag the resting dragon away.

'_Three down… only two to go… please let Harry be next…' _he thought to himself.

"And here comes Mr. Krum!" at those words, Albus felt terror take root. That means that Harry's last with the dreaded Horntail. Why was he surprised? He should've guessed this with Harry's luck. Viktor Krum then slouched out just the Chinese Fireball had been pulled out.

The Chinese Fireball's scarlet and smooth scaled flashed in the sunlight as her fringe of golden spikes around her face swayed whenever she turned her head. She was angry… the mushroom-shaped flames coming from her nostrils was proof of that. Albus hoped that Cedric was feeling creative… for Chinese Fireballs are some of the fastest and cleverest of all dragons. The Fireball crotched down low over her crimson and gold eggs as she looked down at Viktor—as though she was daring him to try anything. As if he had this planned, Viktor went charging forward as if he wasn't afraid at all. "Very daring!" Ludo screamed.

Viktor raised his wand and shot a jet of red-orange light straight at the dragon's head. Almost at once, the dragon let out a horrible, roaring shriek of pain and everyone gasped as it shut her eyes and tossing her head wildly from side to side. The Conjunctivitis Charm…

The dragon roared and went trampling around in distress, trying to see, shooting off mushroom-haped balls of fire whenever it could, Viktor took shelter behind a boulder as the dragon's crushing weight was dragged over the nest. Albus could see that several of the real eggs were cracked.

After some time, Viktor seemed to have gathered up his courage and went charging straight towards what remained of the nest while the Fireball was trying to get its sight back. "That's some nerve he's showing - and - yes, he's got the egg!" Ludo screamed and Igor clapped loudly as the dragon keepers went out to gather up the remaining eggs and to deal with the distressed Fireball.

The judges were supposed to take off points for any damage towards the eggs and most of them gave up reasonable scores. All except for Karkaroff who, predictably, shot up a ten. The crowd clapped as Albus turned to see the large black dragon that now stood there—the crowd screamed louder than ever before. He watched numbly as the twelve wizards struggled with the Horntail. It truly was menacing, with her black scales, yard-long bronze spikes on its scaly tail, and bronze horns protruding from its head. Its cold yellow eyes glared at the crowd as it let out a roar of disapproval and stretched its monstrous leathery wings.

She let out fire that turned the stone under her feet red-hot in just a few seconds, warning the handlers to get away from her cement-colored eggs.

Without a doubt, the most dangerous dragon breed out there.

Biting his lower lip, he turned to the entrance to where Harry would be coming out any second. When the whistle blew for the final time, Albus saw Harry emerged and walked into the enclosure as if toward his execution. He entered, glancing toward the Horntail almost frozen with shock. The dragon looked down at him as if trying to figure out what he was here for and Albus saw its yellow eyes narrow hungrily. He looked back just in time to see Harry raising his wand and shouting something what he knew would be, "Accio Firebolt!"

Albus's hands clenched tightly. Hoping and praying that the spell worked… and finally after about ten seconds and the dragon seemed to have figured out that this child wasn't one of its keepers… it came.

He looked up to see the Firebolt soaring towards him and Albus felt hope rise in his chest. No one could beat Harry in the air as the broom stopped right next to him. He smiled as Harry kicked a leg over it and took off flying directly at the dragon. He flew around its huge head, dodging the bursts of fire that the furious Horntail sent his way.

"Great Scott, he can fly!" yelled Ludo as the crowd shrieked and gasped. "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"

Harry soared higher in a circle; the Horntail was still following his progress; refusing to take her eyes off him. Harry dove just as the Horntail opened its mouth, but while Harry dodged the fire, the Horntail's horrendous spikes caught Harry's arm and he plummeted, blood forming a red patch on his sleeve. He heard screaming and groans from the crowd but he ignored them as he continued to watch, scared to look away.

Harry had flown a little farther away, she continued to watch him, writhed and twisted, furling and unfurling her wings and keeping her yellow eyes on Harry, refusing to leave her eggs… He flew higher.

Harry rose a few more feet, and she let out a roar of exasperation. Harry was acting the part of annoying fly, and finally, exasperated, the dragon spread its enormous black wings and flew at him. But Harry was too quick, however, and made a spectacular dive underneath the dragon and his hand closed around the Golden Egg. And with a huge spurt of speed, he took off as quickly as possible as the handlers went running out to subdue the dragon.

Albus let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in relief. It was over…

"Look at that!" he heard Ludo yell. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"

Albus turned to see Minerva, Hagrid, and Alastor waving him down. Albus rested his elbows on the table and pressed forehead against his clasped hands, silently thanking whatever deity that answered his prayer.

Albus knew that they had taken him hospital tent, and the crowd would wait until he returned before he would be able to get his scores. Ludo Bagman was beaming around—almost dancing with exhilaration as Madame Maxime was grudgingly acknowledging Harry's win, as for Karakoff… well, he continued to wear a scowl as if disappointed that Harry had done it.

He leaned back in his seat as he and the others waited—feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He sat back and enjoyed a conversation with Barty until, about ten minutes later, Harry and Ron Weasley were coming towards them. Ron was talking animatedly to Harry, and Albus smiled, knowing that the two of them finally made up. Good… they just didn't look right without each other

They stood before the table and Madame Maxime put her score… an eight.

"Not bad!" he heard Ron yell over the noise. "I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder…"

Barty came next and he put up a nine and he too put up a nine as well… but when they reached Ludo…

Albus looked over at him in surprise at the number ten, but Ludo just shrugged at him, beaming. But before Albus could ask he heard Ronald yelling furiously at Karkaroff, "What? Four? You lousy, biased scumbag, you gave Krum ten!"

_*That night*_

Albus was relaxing in his office, feeling more tired than he had in days. But in a good way this time. It was over… at least for now. One task down, only two more to make it through and this was over. Now if only they can go as well as the first… though his exhaustion from the previous weeks were finally taking their toll and he started to doze off where he sat.

At least until two loud CRACKS echoed around his office and Albus sat bolt-upright, half thinking that he was under attack… only to realize that no one was there. Confused, he looked around his seemingly empty office…

And then heard a squeaky voice from the floor, "Professor Dumbledore, sir!"

Albus quickly looked over his desk to see two house-elves standing there, a male and female. The male, he recognized at once as the Malfoy's former elf, Dobby. He was dressed in the strangest assortment of clothes that Albus had ever seen. He was wearing a tea cozy for a hat, on which he had pinned a number of bright badges; a tie patterned with horseshoes over a bare chest, a pair of what looked like children's soccer shorts, and mismatched socks.

He sighed in relief and smiled at them both. "Well, this is a pleasant surprised. You both gave me quite a shock."

Albus then looked to the female elf, and with realization, he saw that it was Winky. Barty's former elf. He frowned slightly as he took in her dirty appearance. While she was dressed in normal clothes that fit her perfect, she looked rather like Mundungus after one of his drinking benders.

"Dobby and Winky?" he questioned politely as Dobby bowed so low that his nose touched the floor.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir!" Dobby said looking up respectfully. "Such an honor it is, sir! Dobby is glad that Dobby could talk to you like this."

Albus chuckled as he leaned back in his seat and started to relax again. "I am glad that we can finally properly speak as well, Dobby," he said smiling at him and Dobby bowed again.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir, Dobby and Winky has come to find work!" Dobby said hopefully as Winky sniffled at his side.

"Oh?" Albus asked interested. "Do tell."

"Well… you see sir," Dobby squeaked, looking at the floor. "Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work! But Dobby hasn't found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying for his now!"

Albus didn't say anything for a moment as he surveyed Dobby over the top of his glasses with a kind smile. The elf just continued to look down however, as if he was afraid that he would get into trouble for saying something like that.

"Ahh, Dobby, and why did you come to Hogwarts looking for work?" Albus asked him curiously.

Dobby made another bow and addressed the carpet, "Ah, sir!" he squeaked. "Dobby has heard that Professor Dumbledore is a great Wizard, and is very kind towards house-elves! Dobby is wanting to be paid for his work and is also wanting Winky to have a job with Dobby!" Dobby told him, but Winky didn't help Dobby by saying anything.

"I see," Albus said looking at Winky who started to cry. "Is that so, Winky? Would you like paying for your work too?"

Winky stopped crying for a moment before she looked up at him miserably. "Winky is a disgraced house-elf!" she squeaked almost wildly. "But Winky will never sink to such a level!"

"Very well," Albus assured her kindly as he looked towards Dobby, who was looking more nervous by the second. "And tell me Dobby. How much would you like to be paid?" Albus asked him, and for a moment, Dobby looked stunned as he stared up at him through his large eyes.

"Sir?" he asked slowly and Albus laughed. "Oh, yes, I think that we could do with a couple more house-elves around here. And if you wish to be paid, then I will be more than happy to do so."

Dobby broke into a wide smile and bowed low again. "Oh, thank you sir! This means so much to Dobby sir! Dobby cannot tell you!"

"Now," he asked as he folded his hands together and surveyed him. "How much would you like to be paid? I am sure that we can come to something that we will be more than happy with."

Dobby looked confused for a moment, as if he never thought of it.

"How about…" Albus suggested, "I will pay you ten Galleons a week and give you weekends off?"

To say that Dobby was shocked would be an understatement. Dobby let out a squeak of amazement and fell over in astonishment.

"Sir!" Dobby squeaked again as he stared up at him in amazement. "Sir, Dobby knew that you were a kind and great wizard… but never… never has Dobby ever heard…"

"Oh, I am serious about this Dobby," Albus smiled at him. "We deserved to be rewarded once in awhile for our hard work. If this is what you wish, I will be more than happy to oblige."

Dobby suddenly shook his bat-like ears and said with a deep bow, "Sir! Dobby is honored to be working for one who is so generous and good and…"

Albus raised his hand up at once. He learned that too much praise will go to your head and Dobby finished by saying, "But, sir, Dobby cannot except sir. Dobby likes being free, but he isn't wanting so much! He likes works much better."

"I see," Albus said thinking that over. "Alright then Dobby… how about… a few Galleons a week and several days off a month?"

Dobby shivered as if unable to imagine such riches and shook his head. "Ah, sir is too good to Dobby! But that is still much too much sir. Dobby doesn't mean to be insulting to your kindness sir…"

"Why is that Dobby?" Albus asked him kindly, growing fond of the strange little elf.

"Dobby is liking his freedom sir," he said. "But it has been a long time since Dobby has been able to find work. Dobby misses his work, but he isn't wanting so much!"

"Do you not miss your old masters then, Dobby?" Albus asked, though he knew the answer already.

Dobby gulped and looked over his shoulder as if he expected Lucius to be standing there. But he then said in a brave voice, "Dobby is not missing his old masters sir, Dobby is not wishing to see his old masters again. Dobby was treated like vermin. He didn't like having to punish himself so often, and he is enjoying not having to do so anymore."

Predictably, Dobby ran straight to the desk and began banging his head against it screaming, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

"Dobby, stop!" Albus cried quickly and the elf gave himself one last smack before he fell backwards, looking cross-eyed.

"Dobby, you must not talk about your masters that way," Winky said at once, sounding very angry. "Winky is not dreaming of speaking about her master Mr. Crouch in such a way! Winky wishes to see Mr. Crouch and go home, but she knows she is not able to!" Winky cried again, louder and harder than before.

"They aren't Dobby's master's anymore, Winky," Dobby answered her firmly. "Dobby is a free elf, and he is wanting to work for Professor Dumbledore in the kitchens here at Hogwarts. Winky should be happy to be having Professor Dumbledore as her master!"

"Winky is not happy, Winky is not wanting a new master," she peeped and tears began falling down her face.

Dobby then quickly turned back to him, as if afraid that Winky got them into trouble. "Sorry Professor Dumbledore sir, Winky is not being used to being a free elf," Dobby said quickly.

Albus merely smiled at them and said, "It is alright, Dobby. I know that change can be hard for us all. And you do not have to call me _'sir'_ Dobby."

"Yes, sir Dobby does have to call you sir, sir," Dobby said with another bow.

"I am just saying that, if you wish too, you may call me a barmy old codger, and it wouldn't matter to me," Albus smiled. "Dobby you are a free elf therefore you are not obliged to treat me as your master. You are my employer, not my servant. You are free to chose what you wish."

"But Dobby is not wanting to call you that sir," Dobby said looking shocked. "And Dobby wishes to have one Galleon a week and one day off a month sir! If that is ok with sir…?"

Albus laughed again and he got up to show the two of them to the kitchens. "Of course, Dobby. If that is what you want. But if you ever wish for a pay raise, the please feel free to come to me. Now, why don't I show you the kitchens?" he told them and they followed him out of his office and down the stairs.

**(I solemnly swear never to abandon this story… I really hoped that you all enjoyed my idea of what happened here. In the next chapter, we move on towards the Yule Ball! Hope that you like it as much as the rest of the story. And for those of you who have been asking, yes some of my stories have been deleted, but I've moved them to another site. If you want to know where, just go to my profile and it should give you directions. :) thank you again.)**


	39. Ballroom Dancing

**Chapter 38: Ballroom Dancing**

Albus finished giving the two newest workers of Hogwarts a tour of the kitchens and to explain what they were expected to do. He then left them in the capable hands of the other house-elves before he left. While Dobby took this new life as a free elf like a fish to water—Albus was more concerned with Winky. He knew that it was often difficult for a house-elf to readjust to a new environment after being freed, some took it harder than others. He had told Dobby to take care of her for them… a task that Dobby would no doubt take seriously.

Albus headed to bed that night only to happily. After everything that has happened lately, he was looking forward to a good night's sleep for the first time in weeks.

He chose to check in with his portraits one last time before he turned in early however.

"He went up to send this long letter to Sirius," Everard told him with a smile and a shrug. "I have to say he sure looks a great deal happier than I've seen him all year. You can hardly tell he's the same person than the gloomy and troubled model we've seen since Halloween."

Albus smiled as well, "Well, that is a relief to hear. I was starting to worry that he forgotten what it's like to be happy. And I know that Sirius would be relieved to hear that as well. I don't think that we need to worry about him breaking into the castle yet."

"You aren't going to send a message to him first?" Dilys asked him in surprise.

"Oh, no," Albus chuckled at her. "I think that he would prefer it if his godson told him instead of hearing it from me first. And I think that Harry would also appreciate it if he got to write that letter."

"They should be heading back down to the common room at any second," Everard exclaimed. "He was with his two friends again. Which is good—they just didn't look right when they were apart."

"That's true," Dexter said in a wheezy voice. "I don't think this separation has been easy for any of them."

"Good," Albus answered as he took of his hat and thought longingly of the soft bed that was waiting for him. "Knowing the Gryffindor's, they'll be celebrating all night. That should give us all a peace of mind for tonight at least."

Phineas huffed in annoyance, and Albus had gone to bed smiling, knowing that Phineas has always disapproved of any party. But he wasn't concerned about that at all… the only thing on his mind was of his head hitting that pillow.

*Morning*

Albus had slept like the dead all night, and awoke feeling energized for the first time since Halloween, and he was laughing with the rest of his portraits when he heard of the party last night.

He was glad to hear that the boys had made up and he chuckled merrily when he heard that they opened the golden egg. When it was decided what the Second Task would be, he had gone down to the lake and asked the merfolk if they would be kind enough to help them out and partake in the tournament. He had enchanted those eggs to remember the voices it heard and in this case, it was the merpeople's song. It was hollow and completely empty… filled only with their song… one that can only be heard underwater.

"They had no idea what it was," Armando went on with a yawn. "They suggested everything from a banshee to the Cruciatus curse but they didn't come anywhere near to guessing it right."

"I would've been surprised if they did, but they still have a few months to figure it out," Albus told him calmly.

He was about to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast, feeling properly hungry again, but just as he reached the door, Armando shouted out, "Oh, and the Weasleys turned Longbottom into a canary!"

*Later*

Winter had come to the castle and, as it did every year, the castle became cold as the sudden drafts of snow and wind would come in. He had quite a job to do to keep Warming Charms up all over the castle to prevent it from getting any worse. But he got a shock late one evening after the fourth years had a Care of Magical Creatures class.

"Rita Skeeter was at Hagrid's hut today," Dexter told him angrily. "At least that's what I heard our favorite trio talking about on their way back up to the common room. She just showed up halfway through class as they tried to help Hagrid nail the Skrewts into boxes. Personally, I don't see why he's trying so hard to save them."

"Don't complain," Dilys said hopefully. "If they don't hibernate it could kill them all!"

"At least those boxes won't be put to waste," Phineas said in his usual bored tone.

Albus on the other hand, wasn't happy about this interview with Hagrid about the "Blast-Ended Skrewts" and asked for every detail his portraits knew. He also grew angry when he specifically said that Rita wouldn't be allowed onto the grounds anymore. How did she get in?

"Oh, I need to ask. Does the Prophet really do a zoological column every Wednesday?" Dexter asked and Albus blinked in surprise.

"Not that I'm aware of," he answered carefully.

"Well, that's proof that she's lying," Dexter finished with a shrug. "That's the excuse she gave to Hagrid…"

"This isn't going to be good," Albus said biting her lower lip anxiously.

"It's not as if you'll be able to get rid of that oaf anyway, so I don't see what the problem is," Phineas yawned and Albus shot him a warning look.

"I'll have to have a few words with him not to say anything that would get into trouble, or even to just cancel it all together," Albus said anxiously.

"Well, I didn't want to end things on a grim note," Dexter went on, "So how about the House-Elf Liberation Front?"

"The what?" Albus asked, a smile coming back to his face for a moment.

"The trio went down to the kitchens and I overheard Weasley mention a new name, though I think that it was more sarcastic than anything," Dexter smirked. "The boys thought that Granger wanted them to burst into the kitchen and stop the house-elves working."

"Which they didn't, I'm hoping," Albus said at once.

"No," he assured him. "She just wanted them to see Dobby."

Albus laughed again. "Oh, I am certain that Dobby loved that."

"They were down there for awhile before they went back upstairs with the usual sweets," Dexter said with a grin. "Whatever she may say, I'll take Ron's name over SPEW."

The rest of the room laughed at that.

*Week before Christmas*

Everything seemed to be going smoothly now. The days just seemed to fly by, and now it was only just one week before the Yule Ball and Hogwarts was pulling out all the stops to decorate the school and have everything ready by then.

Everyone was determined to impress Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, as well as make this a Christmas no one will forget. He admired all the non-melting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the bedecked twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall and so much more… he had been at Hogwarts for most of his life, and he couldn't remember seeing it in such a magnificent state. He was thinking if it would be worth all the trouble to do this for next year as well.

But his favorite part was without a doubt all the interesting rumors about what was planned for the Yule Ball this year. That Hogwarts had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta—not that they would give it to any of the younger students. And then there was the tale of the enchanted white stags that would be flying over everyone's heads while they eat… oh, but the best had to be the one with the giant-sized diamonds that will be floating in place of the usual candles…

In his opinion, there was no greater enjoyment than the active minds of excited children.

Everything seemed to be looking up now that the First Task was over, and his worries seemed to have lessened greatly as well and he was able to enjoy himself again. But unfortunately, his worries started to pick up again after he failed to convince Hagrid to turn down the interview.

Hagrid was so excited about the idea of being able to share to the world how wonderful his Blast-Ended Skrewts were, he wasn't thinking things through. But as Albus expected, the interview was really just an excuse for Rita to ask about Harry. From what Hagrid said to him, she just wanted to find out anything horrible about the boy.

"She most likely wants to write about a disturbed, mentally-unstable boy," Albus said to himself softly.

"Well, if she wanted that, then she should've interviewed Snape," Dilys yawned. "I'm sure that he would've been only too happy to help her out."

Albus hardly heard her. And while he wasn't happy about this arrangement at all, he chose to ignore it for now. As there wasn't much he could do about it anyway. So instead, hoping to get his mind of it, he asked about how everything was going for the ball.

"Yeah, the other teachers have everything under control. I don't think you need to worry; looks like it's going to be fixed up perfectly by the ball," Dilys said dreamily. "Wish I could go…"

"Oh, you should've seen all the idiots asking that Fleur girl to the ball," Everard laughed suddenly. "I just saw it now… that Weasley was just another one of her victims?"

"He fell for her Veela charm most likely," said Albus lightly as he looked out at the snow-covered grounds. The carriage was just in his sights and he could see Madame Maxime and her students returning from the castle. His eyes left them and to the tiny flicks of snow that would ensure a white Christmas drifty lazily passed the window.

"Oh, and Sirius finally wrote back to the boy," Everard finished up… "I think I heard them mention it, though I'm not so sure I heard right."

"Yes," Albus nodded, "That's a relief to hear." To be honest, Albus had been worried lately, just last night he had received a very angry letter from Sirius as well. After Sirius had called him every curse word that is known to the world, he finished by writing a threat saying that he was lucky that Harry survived the First Task. And that if he does get hurt in this tournament, he won't live to see the next dawn.

"I guess I should count myself lucky that he hasn't come here to kill me personally," Albus said to himself as he began looking through his drawers for a spare bit of parchment. Everything fell silent for a moment… and then Dilys asked slyly, "So, who're you going to the ball with?"

"It's inappropriate for a teacher to take a date to such an event," Albus burst out laughing. "We don't want the rumors to become even wilder do we?"

*Christmas*

The rest of the week had passed in a flash, and before they knew it, it was the evening of the famous Yule Ball—a tradition almost as celebrated as the Tournament itself. Albus dressed in his best robes of royal blue and headed down to join the rest of the schools.

He couldn't help but admire all the work now that it was the night of the ball. No expense had been spared when the castle had been transformed so that it was full of hundreds of fairies that were sitting in the dozens of rosebushes and statues. The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with enchanted snow falling from the starry black ceiling. He joined the high table where the other judges and Champions would so join. But to his greatest surprise—sitting in the fifth seat was Percy Weasley.

Percy noticed him and jumped up importantly and made a bow. "Professor Dumbledore," he then said pompously, and he didn't sit back down until Albus sat as well.

"Well, young, Mr. Weasley," Albus said politely. "It is a pleasure again to see you. But please, what has happened to Barty? I know that he has always disliked parties but…?"

"Ah, professor," Percy said excitedly. "I'm afraid that Mr. Crouch has been feeling under the weather lately, so I have been asked to fill in for him tonight." He puffed out his chest proudly, "He really is starting to rely on me these days. Not that he can't manage on his own, of course, he is as amazing as ever, but still… I think he deserves a quiet Christmas."

Albus nodded, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. It is true that Barty hasn't been looking that well since the Quidditch Cup… but the Barty Crouch he knew would rather lose an eye than miss a day of work. Even if he doesn't approve of parties of any sort… the idea that he would miss something as important as this boggled his mind.

But he was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the front doors open and suddenly the rest of the three schools coming in, dressed in every color of the rainbow. Every shade imaginable walked through the doors, and everyone stared around them in amazement at everything from the enchanted snow and giant icicles from the ceiling and the glistening white dance floor.

Albus smiled as he leaned back and watched them all decide which tables to sit at and waited patiently as they took their seats. At last, once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Minerva walked in with the champions and their partners lined in pairs behind her. All at once, the entire Great Hall broke into applause as soon as they entered.

He looked up to see the four champions looking embarrassed as they walked across the floor. Harry was in ink-green robes and was accompanied with Miss Parvati looking very pretty indeed in light pink and gold. Harry seemed to be very uncomfortable in this environment; though Miss Parvati seemed to be enjoying herself as she was beaming around at everybody, steering Harry forcefully up to the table.

Roger Davies wasn't looking at anything but Fleur Delacour beside him, looking stunning in robes of silver-gray satin. Miss Delacour was smiling around at everyone and seemed to be in her element in this atmosphere. Albus's eyes next fell onto Cedric and Miss Chang who were walking hand in hand, looking happy, and finally onto a pretty girl in blue robes and Viktor Krum.

He then blinked in realization when he realized that it was, in fact, Miss Granger. Though she looked so different that it wasn't that hard to see why he had trouble seeing that it was her. Miss Granger had always been a bit of a Tomboy, so seeing her in beautiful periwinkle-blue robs, and her hair done up elegantly, it was a startling change.

Albus merely smiled happily at them as they all took their seats before he turned to talk to Madame Maxime, and asked for her opinion on the Hall.

"Eet ees surprisizng," she said after a moment. "Not what we 'ave at Beauxbatons of course. But you did rize to ze challenge."

Albus beamed at her and tilted his head. "So long as you and everyone else is comfortable and enjoying yourselves."

"I've been promoted," he heard Percy's tone across from him. Albus looked over slowly as Percy went on explaining to Harry, "I'm now Mr. Crouch's personal assistant, and I'm here representing him."

"Why didn't he come?" Harry asked curiously. Albus listened carefully as well, not even noticing what Ludo was saying, though he was looking right at him.

"I'm afraid to say Mr. Crouch isn't well, not well at all. Hasn't been right since the World Cup. Hardly surprising - overwork. He's not as young as he was – though still quite brilliant, of course, the mind remains as great as it ever was. But the World Cup was a fiasco for the whole Ministry, and then, Mr. Crouch suffered a huge personal shock with the misbehavior of that house-elf of his, Blinky, or whatever she was called."

Albus sighed. This did not sound like Barty Crouch all. He didn't know what it was; but something didn't seem right.

"Naturally, he dismissed her immediately afterward," Percy went on, "But, well, as I say, he's getting on, he needs looking after, and I think he's found a definite drop in his home comforts since she left. And then we had the tournament to arrange, and the aftermath of the Cup to deal with - that revolting Skeeter woman buzzing around."

Albus privately agreed with that last remark. "No, poor man, he's having a well earned, quiet Christmas. I'm just glad he knew he had someone he could rely upon to take his place."

Albus wasn't so sure about that, but instead of letting them know that he was listening in, he picked up his own menu and looked over it. While everything looked delicious, he made up his mind and said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops!"

Once everyone started eating, he busied himself with talking to Madame Maxime for some time until he heard Viktor Krum speaking for the first time, "Veil, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," he was telling Hermione. "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these - though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains -"

"Now, now, Viktor!" Karkaroff boomed loudly, though there was a bit of a warning in his deep tones. "Don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"

Albus smiled again, and said lightly, hoping that this wouldn't ruin the festivities. "Igor, all this secrecy… one would almost think you didn't want visitors." Truthfully, the way that Viktor described it, it sounded truly beautiful.

"Well, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff almost as smugly as Percy, smiling widely, showing his yellowish teeth. "We are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them?"

Albus chuckled at that. Him? Learn all of Hogwarts' secrets? Oh, no, he learns something new about the castle every day. To think that anyone could know everything about Hogwarts is laughable. He then told him good-natured, "Oh I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor."

He then decided to tell him the incident that happened to him just this morning. "Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon - or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."

He heard Harry snort and started to laugh. He looked over to see Percy was frowning at him, but Albus just winked in amusement. Not long later, he could hear Miss Delacour criticizing the Hogwarts decorations to Mr. Davies.

"Zis is nothing. At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course… zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place."

Albus raised his eyebrows, well that was something to think of next time.

"And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs, 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of zis ugly armor in ze 'alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like zat." She slapped her hand onto the table impatiently.

He chortled as he the food feel from Mr. Davies kept dropping the food from his fork back onto his plate so that he kept sticking his empty fork into his mouth.

"Absolutely right," he said quickly, slapping his own hand down on the table as well. "Like that. Yeah."

It was truly funny how men act when they are with a pretty girl. The rest of the meal went on smoothly until he stood up and announced, "If we are all finished with our delicious meal, I ask you all to stand up and please join us for the main event!"

Everyone stood up at once, and he pulled out his wand to move all the tables out of the way for the dance floor. He then conjured up a platform as soon as the band, 'The Weird Sisters' appeared. One by one, the champions all walked to the center of the room and began dancing to a very slow waltz.

Albus watched them all dance for a short time, before he graciously asked Madame Maxime for a dance, which she excepted graciously. As he had expected, she was a remarkable dancer, moving across the floor splendid grace. He focused on enjoying himself, sometimes he would look up at the others to see who was dancing with who. He fought the urge to laugh when he saw the nervous Aurora Sinistra dancing with Alastor.

It was good to see him enjoying himself as well. Once the first dance was over, he bowed low to Madame Maxime, who curtsied back and went off to dance with Hagrid. This went on for the rest of the night, and he then enjoyed a much faster, less graceful dance with Pomona, who was slightly uncomfortable with dancing as well.

It truly was a wonderful time, stopping only to have a quick drink before he would return to the dance floor, glad to see just how much fun everyone was having. But he couldn't deny that he was truly relieved when midnight came and it had ended.

He wasn't as young as he once was, so after he bade everyone a Merry Christmas and good night, he left the hall exhausted. As much as he loved the holidays, he was glad they only came once a year. As soon as he headed for the stairs however, he heard shouting.

"Hey-Harry!"

He looked to see Cedric Diggory running towards Harry who was going back up with Ron. He watched them talk for a brief moment before Cedric turned and went running back to say goodnight to Miss Chang. Harry on the other hand stood there for another few seconds, looking completely baffled, but then turned and headed back up the stairs, looking quite relieved to be leaving as well.

Too tired to think too much about it, Albus sighed tiredly, looking forward to bed again. But as he also started to head up, he heard a familiar voice speak from behind him, "Headmaster."

Surprised, he looked back to see a very grim Severus coming towards him from the grounds; it had started to snow again from the snow that was starting to melt on his shoulders.

"Severus?" he asked politely.

"I wish to talk to you," he said softly when he came up to him. "About…" his head gestured to his left arm and Albus understood at once. He nodded and they both hung back, waiting for everyone else to leave. They waited their patiently until only a few stragglers remained.

"Well?" he asked softly.

Severus sighed and whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "Karkaroff's Mark is becoming darker too. He is panicking, he fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell. Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns."

Albus didn't look at him, he had been afraid of this. So the Dark Mark was slowly starting to darken as well. His good mood fading to one of anxiety; more proof that Tom was making a comeback. But what was going through that mind of his former student? What was he planning now? He knew that whatever Tom had up his sleeve, it almost certainly involved Harry and the Tournament… the question was… how?

"Does he?" he asked as Miss Delacour and Mr. Davies came giggling in from the grounds; but he hardly noticed them. "And are you tempted to join him?"

"No," said Severus said after a moment of silence. "I am not such a coward."

"No," agreed Albus sincerely. He then turned and headed up the stairs. "You are a braver man by far than Igor Karkaroff. You know, I sometimes think we Sort too soon…"

He smiled, having a good idea to what Severus looked right now. All in all, not the best way to end a party…

**(Sorry for the wait. But like I said, it's becoming harder to write this story the further we go into the years.)**


	40. Who Would You Miss Most?

**Chapter 39: Who Would You Miss Most?**

Albus woke up with the bright sunlight shining into his bedroom the next day. He had awoken later than he usually did; his head and feet still very sore from last night, but he was still quite happy from how everyone seemed to have enjoyed themselves.

This light-hearted atmosphere continued for the next couple of weeks until the students were back in classes, and worry for the next task was slowly starting to increase again. In his opinion, this Second Task was the most dangerous out of the three… if they messed up just once, someone could drown.

"So, no pressure, huh?" Alastor joked when Albus told him this late one night.

"You're jokes were always so terrible, Alastor," Albus told him politely as he watched him limp down the hallway. "But now tell me, have you been keeping an eye on the Champions?"

"Do you mean all four of them or just Potter?" he asked gruffly.

"All of them," Albus replied simply.

"Yes, yes of course I have!" he barked in annoyance. "Who do you take me for?"

"I don't mean to upset you, Alastor," Albus said patiently. "I merely wish to know if you found out if they discovered the clue within the Golden Eggs."

"Well, I'm pretty sure that Diggory has," Alastor said pulling out his flask and taking a quick gulp. Smacking his lips he went on to say, "Saw the kid looking up the Bubble-Head Charm in the library."

Albus nodded, "That's good, and the others?"

"Can't say for sure about Krum and Delacour," he answered. "But I know that Potter is still having trouble with it."

"I can't say that I'm surprised," Albus said anxiously. "After all, students don't learn about merfork until their fifth year."

"Let alone ways to survive in a lake for an hour," Alastor smirked, as if enjoying a private joke. "Wonder how this is going to work out."

"I wonder indeed," Albus said carefully. "But the first thing that Harry needs to worry about is solving that clue."

He had heard from his spying portraits that Harry was now working on what the clue was—apparently, he started taking the egg out of his trunk every time he went up to the dormitory.

"And what will happen if he can't figure it out?" Alastor asked him.

"I rather not think about it," Albus sighed. He looked back up at him and said, "Keep an eye on him especially, Alastor."

"Naturally," he answered with a rather evil smirk. Albus frowned at him slightly, Alastor did have one strange sense of humor.

*A few days later*

Albus was quickly writing a letter to an old friend, desperately searching for a substitute teacher who would be able to take over for Hagrid for a short time. He just couldn't believe what was happening. That morning he had sat down to breakfast only to receive a letter from Hagrid.

**Dear Professor Dumbledore,**

**If you don't mind, sir, I want to take some time off from work. I don't think that I'll be able to teach the students for awhile, hope that you can find someone else to take over.**

**Hagrid.**

Albus had stared down at it for who knows how long. What had happened? He quickly glanced up to the empty seat at the end of the table that Hagrid was usually occupied in. Now that he thought of it, he had hardly seen Hagrid at all lately since the ball. Just what was going on around here? Was it possible he was ill or was it something more serious?

He continued to wonder as he pulled out the newspaper the owl had delivered for him and had just about to take a bite out of his eggs when what he saw made him drop his fork.

_DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE_

_Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures._

_Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates._

_An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening." 'I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm," says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything."_

Albus couldn't bring himself to read the rest. So this was the reason. He didn't need to look at the name to know who was behind all this. Once again, he felt anger boiling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Rita Skeeter. How could she have discovered this?

He had no idea what to do this time, so this was the reason why Hagrid hadn't wanted to come to meals anymore. And so here he was now asking another friend, Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank to take over until Hagrid was ready to return to work.

"They all hate Hagrid?" Dilys demanded when Albus had re-entered his office later that day. "I overheard that boy Malfoy talking about it. Did she even bother to interview anyone outside of Slytherin?"

"What I want to know is how she found out about this," Albus said softly. "Rita is banned from the grounds and I know that Hagrid would never tell anyone else about this."

"She must've snuck in somehow," Dexter declared angrily. "And overheard Hagrid talking about it."

"Who on earth would he tell about his mother?" Phineas called brutally. "His mother was a giant! I would be ashamed of her to…"

"Phineas," Albus warned wearily, sealing up his letter and handing over to Fawkes. "Please hurry," he told him. Fawkes took the letter in his long talons and disappeared just as Albus leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes, feeling angry and desperate at the same time. It was just one thing after another since this year began…

At that moment, there was a loud rustle of feathers and hooting as well as sharp taps on the window. He opened his eyes to see a large flock of owls now sitting outside his window, trying to get in. If there was any doubt in his mind up to this point, here was the final proof as he raised his wand and the window slid open… this tournament wasn't worth this much trouble.

*Later that evening*

Albus had gone down to Hagrid's hut later that evening and knocked—only to be answered by Fang's booming barks as he always did whenever he visited. However, Hagrid didn't answer right away as he usually did.

"Hagrid!" he called through the door. "It's me. Please, open the door. We need to talk."

For a few minutes, he thought that Hagrid still wasn't going to answer, but at last he could hear his huge footsteps behind the door and it opened to reveal a very disheveled gamekeeper. His hair was a tangled mess, eyes were red and swollen, and there was a distinct smell around him.

He smiled gently at him and said soothingly, "Hagrid… it's good to see you."

"P-professor Dumbledore, sir," he sniffed and stood back to let him in. Albus settled himself at the table as Fang came over and sat down next to him, asking to be petted. Albus smiled at him and scratched behind his ears for a minute before he raised his wand and caused a steaming hot pot of tea to appear.

"We need to talk for a moment, Hagrid," he said calmly, as he poured himself a cup.

Hagrid sniffled again and asked in a scared tone, "T-talk sir? About what?"

"Yes, Hagrid," Albus replied calmly. "I read the article, Hagrid and I can't tell you how sorry I am that this has happened."

Hagrid waved his hand away, "It was me fault, professor," he said miserably. "Ya warned me not ter talk ter that woman and I didn' listen."

"Regardless, I can't tell you how sorry I am that she would sink so low to get a story," Albus said softly. "But if you think that I'm here to fire you Hagrid, I'm afraid you're mistaken."

Hagrid looked up at him as Albus pulled out the thick wad of envelopes and handed them to him. "Letters from students who remember you from their own school days, Hagrid," he said smiling. "And each one of them says the same thing. That they would have a few choice words said to me if I think, even for a second, about firing you."

Hagrid stared at them as Albus asked, "I've been in contact with Wilhelmina and she has kindly agreed to take over your class for a few days should you chose to take a break. But really Hagrid if you think that I would ever fire you then you honestly don't know me as well as I had hoped."

Hagrid suddenly burst out into tears as Albus sat there and tried to comfort him. But as he went back up to the castle, he knew that it was going to take a lot more than just one meeting for Hagrid to get his confidence back.

*About a week later*

Hagrid still refused to come to class or even return to the hall for meals for the next week. Wilhelmina had taken over and so the student's education wasn't being neglected, but Hagrid was refusing even to talk to anyone except for himself.

Albus decided to take advantage of the Hogsmeade visit to go down and try to talk some more sense into his gamekeeper. But before he went down to the hut he received some very good news.

"Harry figured out the clue?" Albus asked pleasantly surprised.

"He told Miss Granger just this morning as they were leaving," Everard explained.

"Well, that is good to hear," Albus said with relief. "Of course, that's just part of the battle. He still has to figure out how to perform the task as well as actually going through with it. However, he still has time to figure something out…"

He pulled on his cloak and headed outside onto the grounds, glad for some fresh air despite the miserable weather. But as he passed the lake, he looked up to see Viktor Krum was practicing laps around the ship. Either he was practicing for the next task, or was part penguin to be swimming in a half frozen lake.

So… now at least three of the four Champions knew about the task, though he was also certain that Fleur knew as well by now. This was good news indeed… though that didn't make the task any less dangerous… at least they still have time to prepare themselves.

He sat there with Hagrid for almost an hour, trying to reason with him but halfway through, Fang suddenly started barking at the door; which was suddenly followed by loud pounding, almost as if someone was trying to break it down. "Hagrid!" screamed the familiar voice of Hermione Granger. "Hagrid, that's enough! We know you're in there! Nobody cares if your mum was a giantess, Hagrid! You can't let that foul Skeeter woman do this to you!"

Fighting the urge to laugh at the startled look on Hagrid's face, he quickly got up and strolled over to the door. "Hagrid, get out here, you're just being -"

He pulled it open at that moment to see the trio all standing there. "About t-!" Hermione began but stopped dead when she saw him. Harry and Ron were standing right behind Hermione who had suddenly turned red and her fist was still raised, midway through another knock.

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly, smiling down at them.

Whatever anger Hermione had been in seemed to have given way to embarrassment and spoke meekly, "We-er-we wanted to see Hagrid."

His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. "Yes, I surmised as much," he said and she turned even redder. "Why don't you come in?"

It looked to him as if she wanted to refuse, but finally, "Oh… um… okay."

He stood back and let them in and Fang came running up happily, looking for some affection. Harry fended off Fang and looked around and saw Hagrid sitting there. He watched as the boy frowned at how obviously terrible he looked and said, "Hi, Hagrid."

Albus looked up at Hagrid, maybe this was what Hagrid need… some real proof that they want him back—and he said in his tired voice, "'Lo."

He smiled little wider; nothing brought you out of depression better than when you have friends around. "More tea, I think," he said as he shut the door and pulled out his wand. Once everyone was seated and had their tea, he asked, as if nothing happened, "Did you by any chance hear what Miss Granger was shouting, Hagrid?"

Hermione went pink and looked down at her feet as if hoping to disappear. He just gave her a gentle smile and finished, "Hermione, Harry, and Ron still seem to want to know you, judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door."

At once Harry looked up and said, "Of course we still want to know you!" he was staring at Hagrid as if he couldn't believe otherwise. "You don't think anything that Skeeter cow - sorry, Professor," he added quickly, looking back at him.

Albus began to twiddle his thumbs and stared up at the ceiling. To be honest, he quite agreed with where Harry's train of thought was going. "I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said, Harry."

"Er-right," he heard Harry's humble voice say before he went on, "I just meant - Hagrid, how could you think we'd care what that-woman-wrote about you?"

Not looking down he said, "Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid. I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it -"

"Not all of 'em," said Hagrid interrupted wretchedly. "Not all of 'em wan me ter stay."

Finally, he looked back down to Hagrid's face and said seriously, "Really, Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time."

He was letting a few bad letters change everything. Albus, himself, was too old to let a few bad complaints bother him, and he wanted Hagrid to do that as well because they're not worth it. "Not a week has passed since I became headmaster of this school when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?"

He just shook his head and gave a very sad argument, "Yeh - yeh're not half-giant!"

"Hagrid," Harry suddenly said in an angry voice. "Look what I've got for relatives! Look at the Dursleys!"

Albus once more felt a terrible pain enter his heart at those words but he tried his best to ignore it and said, "An excellent point."

Trying to lighten the mood he spoke of his brother, but he wasn't so that Hagrid had been listening. What really did it was when Hermione said in a quiet voice, "Come back and teach, Hagrid. Please come back, we really miss you."

When he didn't say anything, Albus finally had enough. He stood up and they all looked up at him. He said calmly, but firmly, so that Hagrid couldn't say no, "I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday. You will join me for breakfast at eight-thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses."

He then turned to the other three and said more lightly, "Good afternoon to you all."

Knowing that Hagrid needed his friends now more than ever, he left—stopping for a second to scratch Fangs ears and when he shut the door behind him, he could hear sobbing from inside.

He smiled, glad that they finally seemed to have gotten through to him, he went up to the castle. If there was one thing he learned in this world it was that there will always be people who don't agree and say cruel things to you, and sometimes their minds just can't change… but there are many more out there who don't judge on how you look, how much money you have, or even who your parents were…

And it's those people whose words truly matter.

*The next day*

The next day, Albus had a meeting with the other judges and Heads of schools so they could discuss the Second Task. Most were already seated around the table; Karkaroff and Madame Maxime were there as well as Percy Weasley who was sitting their smugly as if he couldn't believe his luck.

Albus glanced over at him before he asked politely, "While we wait for Ludo, I understand that Barty couldn't be with us today? Such a pity—after all he worked just as hard as anyone to try and make the tournament a success."

"No, Headmaster," he answered formerly. "No, Mr. Crouch couldn't make it. He is still sending in detailed statements every day on how to keep things from falling apart, but he still says that he is too ill to join us."

Albus nodded, but he knew better. Something wasn't right about this at all… but he had to ignore that for a moment as Bagman entered the room.

"Ah, Ludo," he said nodding to him and gestured towards the only remaining empty seat. "Welcome, please, have a seat."

"Dumbledore," he boomed happily, and he bowed low to the other judges before he sat himself between Madame Maxime and Karkaroff.

"As we all know, in two weeks time," he said to the rest of the judges, "The Second Task will be held. Which means, it's about time for us to select who the hostages will be for the merfolk to take. Now, each hostage needs to mean something important to his or her Champion—such as a friend or family member for example—to provide a little extra motivation. Of course, the hostages will be put into an enchanted sleep by me so that they are perfectly safe until they are brought back up to the surface." He then turned to Madame Maxime and asked, "What about Miss Delacour? I noticed that she went with Mr. Davies to the ball… unless you have anyone else in mind Madame Maxime?"

She held her hand up imperiously and said deeply, "I do not theenk so. Fleur ees a very difficult girl to charm. She 'ardly stays wiz a boy for long unless zere ees somezing special en 'im. She wishes to find someone who will love 'er and not just 'cause of 'er looks. You understand monsieur?"

"Wholeheartedly, my dear," he agreed smiling and bowing his head slightly. "And I am right in guessing that our Mr. Davies didn't impress her?"

"Fleur return to ze carriage no different zan normal za night," she said at once. "While she did 'ave fun at ze ball wiz Davies, she doesn't feel anyzing special for 'im."

"Then do you know who is very close to her?" Albus asked her.

She thought it over for a moment before she said, "Ah! 'Er little sister Gabrielle! She cares for 'er very dearly. Fleur would face anyzing for little Gabrielle."

"Yes…" Albus said thinking it over, "Older siblings tend to be very protective of their brothers and sister. But do you think that Gabrielle will agree to it?"

"She won't be ze one een danger," Madame Maxime said carefully, "So I don't see ze 'arm."

"Well," Ludo said happily, clapping his hands together "That shouldn't be too difficult. We just need permission from her parents and bring her over the night before the task."

"Very well," Albus said nodding. "I'll be sure to write a letter to them tonight. Now then," he looked up at Karkaroff and asked, "And what of Mr. Krum, Igor? Do you have any suggestions for who should be the captive for him? Such as one of his classmates or…?"

Karkaroff wrinkled his nose in disgust and said gruffly, "Normally, I vould suggest one of his friends… but lately all he talks about is that Granger girl vith vhom he is so captivated vith. He talks how he spent veeks trying to vork up the courage to talk to her."

"Excellent. Now that only leaves the Hogwarts champions," Albus said carefully, thinking it over. "And I admit that I do not know Cedric as well as most of my students, however I happened to have noticed that he was with Miss Chang at the ball and they've been together since then?"

"Ah, young love," Ludo said and he chuckled.

"Yes, I quite agree," Albus said smiling. "So I would suggest Miss Chang for Cedric's hostage. Which means that only leaves… Harry Potter."

"Vhy not the girl he vos vith at the ball as vell?" Igor asked impatiently, obviously wanting to get this over with.

"No," Albus said slowly, "I don't think that'll work. I frankly don't think that he has any… _unique_ feelings for her. And to be honest, I don't think that his relatives would work either."

His guilt once more reared its ugly head, but he fought it as he turned to Percy. "As Hermione is already one of the hostages, I believe the best choice would be his best friend Ron Weasley."

"I'm sorry?" Percy asked, looking up at him startled. Albus understood his concern… it's one thing to talk about a complete stranger being put into an enchanted sleep and taken to the bottom of the lake, but it's quite another for it to be someone you know and care for. Ludo on the other hand was thinking it over. "The redhead right? Well, I say that should work just fine if they're best friends…"

"So long as ve get this meeting over vith," Igor said ill-temperedly.

Percy, on the other hand turned back to him and said as respectfully as he could, "But surely Harry has other friends that would be more suited doesn't he? I mean, why don't you choose one of them?"

"That may be true," Albus told to him gently, "But we can't use just anyone for this task. It has to be someone that the Champions will be willing to risk their lives for. Besides, Harry trusts Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger more than anyone else in the school. You know as well as any of us how close they are."

No one, not even Percy, said anything to that—obviously trying to think of another way out of this. Finally, Karkaroff breaks the silence by clearing his throat. "May ve get this over vith?"

Albus ignored him and said sincerely to Percy, "I promise that your little brother will be perfectly safe. He will be asleep the whole time while being in the lake and will awaken as soon as he is brought back to the surface. And if, by some chance, Harry fails to rescue him he will be brought right up by the merfolk anyway and still awaken with no ill effects."

After another minute, Percy nodded in agreement. They talked for a few more minutes, working out the little details. Albus had spoken to the merfolk and agreed to have them all keep an eye on all the Champions, and should something happen, they will bring them back to the surface—as well as returning the hostages should they fail to be rescued. Finally, once everything was thought out through, they all got up and left.

But before they left, he turned to Ludo and asked him quietly as everyone else shuffled out of the room, "Ludo, while you are here, I have to ask, have you heard anything about Bertha Jorkins?"

Taken aback, Ludo admitted, "No. Sorry, it's just that you're the second person to ask me that in the last couple days."

"And…?" Albus pressed on.

"No," he admitted with a frown. "I've got people looking, of course…"

'_Finally,'_ Albus thought privately; though they should've started looking months ago.

"But so far nothing's turned up," Ludo went on. "I mean… she was in Albania for a short time and then she went south to visit some family and that's where the trail goes cold. The last time anyone saw her was at an old inn and apparently left with some man. After that… it's like she just disappeared."

Albus frowned. "Who was the man?"

"No idea," Ludo exclaimed. "I have people looking into it, but so far nothing's come up.

Albus frowned. "I see," he said slowly. Ludo left after that, and Albus was feeling drained again. A young woman was missing and no one seemed the slightest bit concerned of her. She stops by an inn and leaves that night with a stranger that no one knows about… nothing good could come from this.

"Dumbledore?" asked a familiar voice from behind him.

Glad for a bit of sanity, he stopped and waited for Minerva to catch up to him.

"Minerva," he said with relief as they headed down to the great hall for dinner and stepped onto the spiral staircase.

"So tell me," he asked her , "Are you looking forward to viewing the Second Task, Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes and no," she said, but hesitantly. "I know that they'll be safe, you set up so many safety measures after all, but I mean… who knows what could happen down there? And we won't be able to help them if something goes wrong… suppose they get hurt or lost or who knows what else could happen down there?"

"I understand your concern, Minerva," he reassured her. Those had been some of the first things he thought of when this task was decided. "But no one will drown… neither the Champions nor the hostages will die if I can help it."

"How?" she asked him worriedly.

"I've stationed the merfolk throughout the lake to keep hidden and keep a close watch on them all," he told her. "Should anything happen to any of them, they'll rescue them and bring them straight back up to the surface. Otherwise, they'll stay hidden in the shadows—no one knows the lake better than they do after all. I've also told them to help only if the Champion is visibly struggling to breathe. They won't let any of them drown on their watch."

She still didn't look happy, but she didn't say anything. He reached out and patted her shoulder. "I know," he sympathized with her. "I'm not any happier about this than you are. I'm regretting ever suggesting hosting the tournament. Had I known that it'd be this difficult and nerve racking…" he trailed off and she sighed.

"Well," she said grimly, "I can't ever recall looking forward to the end of the year more than this one."

"I hear you," he sighed. Sadness must've appeared on his face because she looked at him in concern. "Dumbledore?"

"I'm fine," he said with a forced smile. "Just tired," he answered.

"Yes, I can see why," she answered. "So… you decided who the hostages would be?"

"Yes," he informed her. "We had to decide who each of them would miss the most."

"And?" she asked, preparing for the worst.

"Misses Granger and Chang as well as Mr. Ronald Weasley, and Fleur's younger sister Gabrielle," he said, knowing that she wasn't going to be happy about this and sure enough.

"Albus," she hissed. "It's bad enough that two of our students are going into the lake in just two weeks time, do we really have to send more in?"

"They will be perfectly safe until they're brought back to the surface, Minerva," he promised her. "We both know that…"

She just gave him a dirty look as if it was all his fault and looked forward, as if she didn't want to look at him anymore. He left her alone until they reached the hall and she suddenly asked a question he never thought of.

"If it had been you," she asked slowly. "What would it be?"

"What?" he asked her lightly.

"Just thinking out loud," she said shaking her head. "I was just wondering who I would miss the most if it had been me."

Albus blinked before he looked took his usual seat but suddenly was no longer hungry. He hadn't thought of it like that before. Who would _he_ miss the most had it been him? There were countless people that he cared for and would miss of course… but the one person he would miss the most?

"I wish I knew," he whispered to himself and just decided to dig in.

**(Ah… sweet huh? The stress of the tournament is really starting to take their tolls on everyone, especially Dumbledore. Next chapter is the Second Task! What is going through his mind as he watched the champions dive straight into the water?)**


	41. Underneath the Surface

**Chapter 40: Underneath the Surface**

After another week had passed, Albus heard from Alastor that Viktor was planning on using some kind of transfiguration for the Second Task… while Cedric and Fleur had been seen practicing the Bubble-head Charm… but as for Harry… from what his portraits reported, that while he had figured out the secret of the egg, he still didn't know how to perform the task.

"They're spending endless hours in the library," Dilys sighed. "All of them are practically living in that room…"

"They haven't learned anything like this yet," Albus frowned nervously. "Spells and advanced magic that could help them survive underwater isn't learned until sixth year."

He hated that all he could do was keep a close watch on them. The trio searched through their lunchtimes, evenings, and whole weekends – now even skipping meals – but Harry still wasn't able to find anything to help him. Albus had hoped that he would talk to Hagrid about it during their next class with him, as the gamekeeper, it was also a part of his job to care for the creatures in the lake as well.

He had heard, to his greatest relief, Hagrid stopped teaching them about the Skrewts, and was now finishing teaching them on unicorns. He hoped that Harry would be able to talk to him during the lesson… however…

Harry returned after class and went straight back up to the library, still fruitlessly searching through dozens of books. Albus knew that he couldn't help them, but he still had to fight the urge to try and lead him in the right direction.

Before he knew it, it was the eve of the Second Task and he was in Minerva's office, waiting for the four hostages to arrive and getting ready to explain what was about to happen. Minerva entered the room, closely followed by Miss Cho Chang—looking around her in polite confusion, and a very sweet looking girl that looked so much like Fleur, that it could only be Gabrielle.

"Minerva," he greeted her, keeping his voice as light as possible, "And have you found Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley?"

"Not yet," she answered wearily. "I had the Weasley twins go and get them for me."

Albus nodded before he turned to the girls, who were looking at him nervously. "Well," he said evenly. "I imagine that the two of you are wondering why exactly we called you here?"

The two girls nodded nervously.

"We're not in trouble, are we, Professor Dumbledore?" Cho spoke up timidly. "Because if we are, then I'm really sorry for whatever…"

He smiled gently at her and interrupted, "No, no, Miss Chang. I assure you that you are not in any trouble. This is about Cedric Diggory. And, of course, Fleur Delacour," he added with a nod in Gabrielle's direction who blinked in worry.

"Oh, are zey all right?" Gabrielle gasped, wringing her hands and looking around her as if expecting to see her sister appear. "Did something 'appen to Fleur?"

He gave her a kind look and said reassuringly, "No, your sister is just fine as are the other champions. What I'm trying to say is that you two is that—ah, here they are," he said looking over their heads where the door just opened and Ron and Hermione came in.

"Sit down," Minerva said briskly, pulling out some chairs for them all. "You're just in time."

"Professor," Hermione said at once. "If we're in trouble here, whatever it's about, it's probably his fault," and she pointed to Ron.

"Oh, thanks!" Ron said angrily at her.

"No one's in trouble," Minerva said at once and they visibly relieved.

"Then why are we here, Professor?" Hermione asked respectfully.

"I am about to explain," he nodded graciously. "Now that you all are here, we can begin." He cleared his throat and went on, "First, let me make introductions. Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger—I'm sure that you both already know Miss Cho Chang of Ravenclaw."

The three of them all nodded to each other, before glancing at little Gabrielle, who was looking scared of being in a room with all these strangers. "And, this is Gabrielle Delacour; Fleur Delacour's younger sister."

She nodded to them without looking at them, keeping her eyes to the floor.

"As you all already know," Albus went on, "The Second Task is tomorrow morning. It will involve the champions… and the four of you." At these words, Hermione and Ron both looked unsurprised, however Cho and Gabrielle looked positively bewildered and he explained, "The reason we've called you here tonight is because you all have all been selected to participate in tomorrow's task."

"What do you mean by that?" Ron asked taken aback.

"You mean we'll be working with the champions?" Miss Chang asked in amazement.

"I suppose… you can think of it like that," he answered carefully, "You'll be acting as the champion's… inspiration, shall we say?"

"Albus," Minerva said, looking grim.

"Alright, Professor McGonagall," he told her courteously. "I'm getting to it." He looked back to them and said, "All of you have a very close bond to at least one of the champions. The tomorrow's task, if you aren't already aware of yet, is that the merpeople who live at the bottom of the lake will be taking something very precious from each of them and they must survive in the lake long enough to take back what they took."

"There are merpeople in the lake?" Cho said startled.

"Oh, yes," he answered graciously. "A fair few as well I might add. But the point is that they will be taking something with them tonight so that the champions will be able to retrieve it."

"Yeah, what are they taking?" Ron interrupted, "Is that what you need us for? To tell you what they should take?"

"You're very close, Mr. Weasley," Albus smiled fully, "But not completely. No, we've already chosen what's to be taken," he looked at each of them in turn, "What will be taken will be those closest to them." He placed a hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Who's closest to them," he said calmly, at least until he realized what he was talking about and his face was replaced with terror. "WHAT?! YOU MEAN US?!"

"What?" piped up Gabrielle in fear and the other girls looked alarmed.

"You're joking right?!" Ron yelled. "Please say yes!"

"Don't be alarmed," he said deeply, though he knew that it was too late for that. "I've discussed it with the officials in charge, and the merpeople of the lake and everything is ready. It's very simple. You see, each of you will be put under a powerful Sleeping Spell and the merpeople will take you to the decided location at the bottom of the lake at the very center of their village. And then, tomorrow your respective champions will hopefully be able to find you and bring you back to the surface."

"Hopefully?!" Ron's voice cracked in suppressed panic.

"The merpeople have sworn that they will protect you from any harm while you are in their care," Albus said to them. "The Second Task is for the champions to rescue you, the person they will most sorely miss the most."

Gabrielle blinked and said, "So my sister ees going to come for me?"

He nodded. "Once she hears that it's you who's down there waiting for her, I'm sure that she won't stop until she succeeds. You will be the extra motivation that they will need."

"So…" Miss Chang said slowly before she blushed red. "Cedric…"

Albus nodded and smiled. Ah, young love…

Ron and Hermione both looked at each other before looking up to him and Hermione asked, "You mean that Harry has to save us both?"

Albus shook his head. "No, one of you will be the hostage for Harry," he looked at Ron. "And the other…" he looked to Hermione, "Will be for Viktor Krum."

Hermione looked stunned and blushed deeply, but quickly recovered and said, "So if Viktor will be coming to save me, then Harry has to save Ron."

Albus nodded as Ron shot Hermione an angry look. "Now the catch is, the champions must rescue you in under an hour. Of course," he added hastily at their scared expressions, "The spell on all of you will last for the entire time you will be in the lake. You see, all of you will be put into the enchanted sleep right here and taken down to meet the merpeople. And as soon as your head breaks the surface of the lake, you will awaken. In the unlikely event that your champion fails and is forced to return to the surface without you, the merpeople will escort you to the surface, and see to it that none of you will be in harm's way. I'll be performing the Sleeping Spell myself, so the next time you open your eyes it will be tomorrow when you are brought back."

Albus looked to them all and asked, "The safety of you and the champions are our greatest priority. We wouldn't be taking this risk if we hadn't thought everything out. Are there anymore questions?"

"In other words, do you have any last words?" he heard Ron muttered to Hermione. She glared back at him before she looked up and asked, "So… we really will be safe?"

"Perfectly," he assured her.

"And the champions?" Miss Chang added anxiously.

"I will have the merpeople keep a close eye on all four of them," he turned to her. "If there are any signs of them in trouble, they will be brought back up to the surface at once. The next time you all awaken, you will be out of the lake. Of course," he added as he pulled out his wand. "I cannot make you all do this… it is your choice."

They all hesitated before they all looked at each other, and nodded—somewhat a little uncertainly.

"All right, then. Pleasant dreams," he said and cast his spell. Almost instantly their eyes closed and their breathing became peaceful. Ron's head lolled to the side and onto Hermione's shoulder, Cho's head fell against her chest and little Gabrielle almost fell out of her seat as the spell took full effect. All of them out completely—dreaming deeply.

Minerva stepped forward and looked closely to make sure they were sound asleep. As she inspected them, Albus looked at their peaceful expressions and he couldn't help but realize how much younger they looked. Looking at their faces, he almost had second thoughts about this.

"Well, let's head on down to the lake," Minerva said as if from far away and he came back to the matter at hand. "And get this over with." She looked at him furiously, sounding like she was doing this against her will, and conjured four stretchers. Albus levitated them all up onto them and they left the room; meeting no one as they headed down to the Entrance Hall and outside.

It was bitter cold outside, and Minerva shivered as they made their way down to the lake. He could see her watching him from the corner of his eye and he asked, "Are you alright, Minerva?"

"What do you think?" she hissed to him, slipping slightly on an icy patch of ground. He reached out and grasped her arm firmly as she stumbled and led the way down the familiar path.

"I'm not any happier about this than you are, Minerva. But these four will be just fine," he reassured her. "And before you ask, I also put a powerful Warming Charm to protect them from the freezing water."

"Well, at least you're thinking things through," she sighed, her anger disappearing.

Albus sighed as well, not knowing if it was at the icy wind or his own guilty conscience. "I don't like this either…" he repeated. "But we can't use just anyone for this task."

"I know," she said as they neared the dark waters of the lake. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Here we are," he said, and knelt at the edge of the lake. Its surface was smooth, only ripples from the wind were causing any movement, and kept throwing up sprays of water onto the bank. Albus looked around and said softly, "The merpeople should be here any moment now."

They waited, standing there in their cloaks, Minerva pulling hers around her a little extra tightly as a particularly cold gust of wind swept over them.

"Ah, here they are," Albus said happily, and sure enough, a moment later about eight or nine heads appeared from beneath the surface of the water and started to come closer to the shore. It was rather a frightening thing to see them appear, one by one, and make their way towards them—especially with their gray skin and long green hair trailing behind them—like some drowned victims returning to the shore. Their yellow eyes almost began to glow in the darkness as a wild-looking female that he recognized at once as the Merchieftainess Murcus came up to the shoreline and began to speak in Mermish.

Albus smiled at her and said, "Thank you again for helping us with this task. Is everything ready?"

"Yes," she answered in her screeching voice. "Everything is ready. It's just the four?"

"Correct," he answered and gestured to the sleeping ones on the stretchers next to them. "They'll be asleep the whole time so I hope that we don't have anything to worry about. The champions will go down tomorrow and try to rescue them."

At least he hoped so. Unless by some miracle, Harry found a way to do so tonight… he shook his head at the thought, and went on to her, "If any of them don't appear after about an hour, please bring them back up."

She nodded in understanding. "We'll be taking them now," and she called the others she brought with her. Albus turned to Minerva. "It's alright. They're ready."

"Are you sure this is safe?" she whispered back to him, staring at the merpeople in fascination and apprehension.

He put a hand on her shoulder and answered, "I'm sure. They may not look it, but they are very honorable. They won't go back on a promise. We can trust them."

Minerva hesitated, and for a moment, he wondered if she was going to refuse, but after a few more seconds she nodded. He smiled reassuringly at her and flicked his wand at the four hostages. Almost at once, they rose from the stretchers, their heads bobbing strangely and their limbs flopping limply.

"Ready?" he asked again in Mermish, and the merpeople nodded, coming as close to the shoreline as they could, and with another flick of his wand, the hostages fell gently into the water where the merpeople caught them. A few of them waved goodbye to the two of them as they turned and dove back into the water, pulling the four with them.

Minerva gave a great sigh. "I still don't know how you talked me into this," she said as they turned and made their way back up to the castle. "But what's done is done I suppose."

"Yes," he answered as he turned back to see the lake, glistening in the feeble moonlight. He knew that it was too late now, but he couldn't help but hope that he won't regret this.

"Albus?" Minerva asked worriedly, when she realized he stopped.

"I'm fine," he answered her, and together they walked back up the path towards the castle.

*Morning*

"Where is Potter?" Minerva asked him anxiously as he headed to his seat at the judges table which had been conjured up at the water's edge. "How could he be late? What is he doing? I don't even remember seeing him at breakfast and…?"

"It'll be alright, Minerva," he said, surprised at how calm his voice was. To be honest, he wasn't sure if he was trying to reassure Minerva or himself. "I'm sure that he's on his way right now… he'll be here."

"Vell, I say ve start without the boy already," Karkaroff said nastily. "He's already late! And if he can't show us respect by being on time for the task, he doesn't deserve to be competing! Not that he should've in the first place!"

"Igor," he said warningly, not in the mood to be listening to him about rules at the moment.

Karkaroff opened his mouth to complain when he heard someone shout out, "There he is!"

Albus turned just as everyone did, and sure enough, there was Harry, running flat out across the lawn, his robes flying behind him. Karkaroff looked furious as Ludo, for some reason, looked immensely relieved.

"I'm… here…" Harry gasped as he came to a skidded stop in front of the table, accidentally splattering Fleur's robes with mud. Fleur glared at him and whipped out her wand to clear the mud away.

"Where have you been?" Percy Weasley said pompously. "The task's about to start!"

"Now, now, Percy!" Ludo reproached him with a grin on his face, as Harry bent over trying to get his breath. "Let him catch his breath!"

As he said this, he led the four of them to the very edge of the lake where each of them would be starting. Albus looked at Harry, wondering what on earth he was going to be doing, and as he watched the boy pull something out of his pocket and shoved it into his mouth.

What was going on now? Did he really still have a plan? He was still in the library last time he checked… unless he could've mastered a spell that could've helped over night he couldn't see how…

Suddenly, Ludo returned to the judges' table and pointed his wand at his throat, and Albus wasn't able to think about it anymore.

"Sonorus!" His voice suddenly boomed out across the water to where the stands were on the other side of the Lake. "Well, all our champions are ready for the Second Task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One… two… three!"

The shrill whistle pierced through the air, and the stands erupted with cheers and applause as all the champions started to wade into the water. Cedric and Fleur were the first to act, and both cast the Bubble-Head Charms. Massive bubbles materialized around their heads, which disoriented their features before they dove straight into the water and disappeared almost at once. Viktor took a little more time as he raised his wand and had preformed a very sloppy job of Transfiguration on his head; changing it into one of a shark's. However he seemed satisfied with it and he plunged into the water just as Cedric and Fleur had done.

Now only Harry was left standing on the very edge of the Lake. He watched as he stumbled through the water, wondering what on earth he was planning on doing. As he walked out, he could hear laughs and jeers from the Slytherins in the stands—now he was about waist-deep in the water, and still nothing was happening. Everyone watched, but when nothing happened, there was more laughter which then turned into catcalls and jeering… just when Albus was beginning to think that Harry hadn't been able to find a way to do the task, it happened.

There were gasps coming from the crowded and he had to strain his eyes to see what was happening… he watched as Harry clapped his hands around his throat as if he had trouble breathing and when he pulled them away he saw that there were long slits just below his ears…

"He's got gills!" he heard someone shout. Everyone stopped laughing at once, and watched in amazement.

'_Gillyweed!'_ Albus thought, and glanced over at Karkaroff and had to fight the urge to laugh at the dumbfounded look on his face. "Clever boy," Albus whispered to himself before he turned back just in time to see, Harry flung himself forward into the water and disappeared beneath the surface.

Ludo was roaring with laughter, and for once it didn't bother him—really it had been worth the stress of planning this task just to see the looks of astonishment from everyone in the crowd. Once he had calmed down, Ludo cleared his throat and called out, "Well, now that all the champions are underwater, I might as well tell you all what this is about. Last night, something was taken from each of them and is now waiting for them to come and bring them back from the bottom of the lake!"

As he let that sink in, he could hear them all talking among themselves, wondering what was taken from the champions no doubt.

Ludo then went on to say, "They have one hour to retrieve the one thing that each of them will most sorely miss - or I guess I should say, _who_." The stands fell silent, as they looked around, understanding now what was happening.

"That's right," he called to the stunned crowd, "The task is simple enough. There are hostages at the bottom of the lake and the task is for the champions to bring back what was taken from them. In this case, Fleur Delacour's hostage is her own little sister Gabrielle Delacour."

A few people gasped as Ludo went on, "Cedric Diggory's hostage is Cho Chang. Harry Potter's hostage is his best friend Ronald Weasley. And Viktor Krum's hostage is Hermione Granger."

Albus could hear a few of the girls let out cries of indignation at Hermione's name, but Ludo didn't seem to have noticed. "Rest assure that the hostages aren't in any real danger. Each one of them has been put into an enchanted sleep that will wear off once they are brought back to the surface. But as for what the champions had all just done right now…"

He pointed to the lake, "Just now, I'm sure that you all saw that both Cedric Diggory and Fleur Delacour had preformed the Bubble-Head Charm which, for those of you who don't pay attention in class, creates a giant bubble of air around their heads to breathe. Viktor Krum did a partial Transfiguration and gave himself a shark's head. A clever idea, however that also had to be some of the most awful Transfiguration work I've seen in years."

Again, Albus had to stop himself from laughing at the look of fury on Igor's face. "As for our youngest champion, our Mr. Harry Potter, on the other hand, used what is known as gillyweed. To those of you out there who never heard of such a thing, gillyweed is a water plant that actually allows one to breathe underwater by growing gills and webbed hands and feet. It's effects last for about an hour before they wear off… so, now that's all taken care of, all we've got to do is wait for the champions to return, hopefully with their respective hostages."

Ludo looked to him and he nodded in return as he looked out at the lake, wondering what was going on down there…

*Later*

After an excruciating wait about 55 minutes later… something finally happened.

"Someone's coming!" he heard someone screaming, Albus got to his feet, looking at the water, trying to see who it was. The stands, who had all fallen silent and had been talking amongst themselves for over half an hour, now all turned to the lake and tried to see what was going on and who was the first champion to return.

"Now, let's see who it is and if they had succeed!" Ludo called gleefully running to the water's edge and shaded his eyes from the sun as he squinted at the water. The surface of the water rippled and suddenly broke, and the stands gasped.

"Fleur Delacour!" Ludo cried out at once. "Can't say for sure what's wrong, but I think she's out cold! The merpeople have brought her up!"

Next to him, Madame Maxime was up on her feet in a flash, and Albus followed her as they all made towards the lake as the group of merpeople began dragging her back. One mermaid with particularly wild hair gently laid Fleur on the bank of the lake as the others sank back below the water. Madam Pomfrey, rushed up and carried Fleur away to the medical tent and Madame Maxine hurried after her with an anxious look on her face.

Albus watched as they took Fleur away and turned to the mermaid. "Please tell me what happened."

"It was the Grindylows," she said in her high voice. "Saw the whole thing. She got to close to the weeds and they pulled her down." She sank back into the water until there wasn't anything but her head showing, "They popped her bubble and her head was hit pretty hard. We pulled her free and brought her back up here… she passed out just before we reached the surface."

Albus nodded. "Thank you. I'm sure that she'll be fine thanks to you all. Now, what of the others?"

"Saw the boy with gills a little while ago not to far from where the village is," she confessed. "He should be there by now. As for the other two boys, they got lost and are heading in the right direction as we speak. They should be along soon."

Albus let out a sigh of relief, "Thank you," he said again, trying to put as much sincerity in his voice as he could.

She nodded before her head sank, and disappeared under the waves. He got up and went over to the judges and told them what she told him.

Ludo nodded and addressed the crowd who were all standing, trying to get a view of the medical tent.

"The merpeople have informed us that Fleur Delacour was attacked by grindylows," Ludo called to them. "And after she lost her air bubble, she was no longer able to continue, and was unable to reach her hostage."

After the announcement, the crowd began talk all at once to their friends like a hive of excited bees. Albus went back to the tent to see how she was doing, and saw that Fleur had already come to and appeared to have been arguing with Madam Pomfrey.

"No! You can't be serious! Zat ees my little sister! Zat is not fair!" Fleur cried, "She ees waiting for me! Please let me go down and get 'er!"

Albus looked at her in sympathy. "I am sorry," Madame Maxime said, "but eet's part of ze tournament's rules. No 'ostages can be released until all of ze champions 'ave surfaced, successful or not."

"Who cares about ze tournament and eets rules?" she yelled as she got up, and tried to move, but stumbled. As she fell back to her knees she started to cry, "Gabrielle! I'm sorry! I am a 'orrible sister!"

Albus lowered his head as he returned back to his seat, almost as if in a trance. A failure? He knew what it was like to be a failure of an older sibling better than anyone. And that girl right there was anything but a failure.

Many here would not even have been able to have been brave enough to face the task. She did amazingly well and he was sure she fought bravely against the Grindylows. No, she was very impressive today. But most of all… he admired her dedication to her little sister. Her determination to protect her no matter what happened to her. He stared up at the sky.

"Which is more than I ever did," he mumbled to himself.

"Headmaster?" Percy Weasley called which caused him to look back down. "Is she going to be ok?"

Albus nodded. "Yes, she'll be fine. Though I think that she'll be better as soon as we bring her sister back up." He turned his full attention back to the lake again and waited. If what the mermaid said was true, then the boys should be coming up any moment… "It shouldn't be long now."

But after five more minutes, the hour was up.

"It has now been one hour," Ludo called for everyone's attention. "And so far, none of the other champions have returned with their hostage. So now, all the judges will give him marks on how much longer it will take for them to…"

But no one was paying attention to Ludo anymore and Albus could see why. The water was stirring again, and as he watched, two heads broke through the surface.

"Ah ha! It's Cedric Diggory!" Ludo cried happily, as Cedric's Bubble-Head broke the surface. "And…" he squinted to see, "Yes, he has his hostage, Cho Chang!"

Albus sighed with relief as he watched Cedric bring Cho back to the shore—with Cho wide awake and clinging tightly to him. The stands erupted into cheers at the sight of Cho and Cedric stepping back onto land and Madam Pomfrey hurried over to treat any injuries and dragged them back to give them some Pepper-up Potion.

They didn't have to wait much longer because about ten minutes later, Viktor Krum arrived, with Hermione in tow.

"Viktor Krum also returns successfully with Ms. Hermione Granger," Ludo announced to them all as the two of them swam back to land with Madam Pomfrey there waiting for them—and Albus felt more relief wash through him as he watched the two of them climb out and wrapped in blankets, "About ten minutes outside the time limit I'd guess. Now we just have to wait for Harry Potter to return… it won't be long now, I reckon…"

Last again…

Albus bit his lower lip and stared determinedly out at the lake. What on earth was going on down there? The Gillyweed would be wearing off by now… if Harry had been closest to the village, then why is he the last to return?

Five minutes passed but still nothing happened… then another ten minutes… finally after about ten minutes, just when he was starting to think that something went wrong, three heads suddenly burst out of the water.

As soon as he saw them, he put his face in his hand in deep reprieve. He didn't he realize that there were three people instead of two. At least until Ludo called out flabbergasted, "Harry Potter has returned with both Ronald Weasley and Gabrielle Delacour!"

The stands were on their feet, shouting and screaming themselves hoarse. At the sound of her sister's name Fleur Delacour came bursting out of nowhere and ran to the bank, apparently prepared to fling herself into the water to her sister. However, Madame Maxime was there and was restraining Fleur with her massive arms, though with some difficulty.

"Let me go!" she screamed at her headmistress, fighting to get to the water. "I need to see her! I need to go and get Gabrielle!"

Meanwhile, about twenty merpeople had also just emerged out of the water beside Harry and the others, beaming and singing as they escorted the three back to the bank. He, Ludo, and Percy all got up from their seats and walked to the edge of the lake. He was beaming at Harry as he and Ron helped Gabrielle back to shore, but Percy ran past them and went plowing into the water to pull his brother back himself.

"Gabrielle!" Fleur called out to them, still fighting to get to the water like Percy. "Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she 'urt?"

Harry called out, but no words came out… apparently too exhausted to speak. He and Ludo both came out as soon as they were close enough and pulled him back to his feet—though he was so tired he almost fell over again.

At that moment, Ron yelled out angrily at Percy, "Get off me Percy, I'm alright!" Just as Fleur finally broke free of Madame Maxime and practically flew to her sister.

"It was ze grindylows… zey attacked me… oh Gabrielle, I thought… I thought…" and suddenly both sisters started hugging and crying.

"Come here, you," said Madam Pomfrey from his left. And he let her practically dragging him to Hermione and the others, forcing a Pepper-up Potion down his throat. Hermione came forward and was busy talking to Harry, as Krum looked surlier than ever at this sight. Madam Pomfrey then went to go and get Ron from Percy as well as going to Fleur and her sister. Fleur was in bad shape; she had cuts on her face and arms and her robes were torn; however it didn't look like she cared as she gave Gabrielle over to her.

Albus smiled at the two sisters before he crouched at the edge of the lake, talking to Murcus once again as soon as she reappeared. She gestured him to come closer and he asked, desperate for some answers, "Just what happened down there?"

"The boy," she said nodding to Harry, "He was the first one to reach them."

He blinked in surprise. "But then why was he the last one back?"

"Because he didn't want to leave anyone behind," she answered with a smile.

Realization washed over him like the waves that were beating on the shore. "I should've known," he said shaking his head, a smile also appearing.

"We tried to tell him to leave once he got his hostage," she told him. "Had he, he would've been back before time ran out. But he stayed. Then the next boy came… the second boy with the bubble."

"Yes, Cedric," Albus said at once, "So he was second? And then what happened?"

"He cut his hostage free and left for the surface," she answered simply. "We thought that the first boy would leave once he did, but he tried to cut the girl with brown hair as well. Of course we stopped him."

Albus could see that Fleur wasn't the only one who took the song seriously. "After that, the shark-head boy arrived," Murcus went on. "Though I suppose it was a good thing the boy stayed."

Albus raised his eyebrows. "Why?" he asked.

"Shark boy tried to use his teeth to cut her free," she answered with a shake of her head, "Could've sliced her into two if he wasn't careful… but just as we were about to stop him, the other boy gave him a sharp rock instead and they left."

Albus nodded in understand. "And he waited for the last champion to show up?"

"She never did," she answered, "He finally got tired of waiting and cut the girl free."

Albus stared at her, that didn't sound like something they would just let him do. "And you let him?"

She shrugged. "He had a wand."

Closing his eyes in understanding as he nodded to her. He could see now clearly what had happened as if he had been there himself Harry wanted to ensure that all the hostages were safe before he came back up. He waited for the other champions, but as soon as he realized that Fleur wasn't going to show up, he finally took matters into his own hands and took her hostage to. He smiled to her, "Thank you… that's all I needed to know."

He was about to leave when she suddenly said, "He's a strange one that boy… don't you think?" she asked him, still smiling as the rest of her brethren retreated into the water.

Albus chuckled at her. "He certainly is…"

She grinned wider at him before she dove back into the water, her fins flashing in the sunlight, and disappearing. He got up and went to the judges, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."

He then told them what Murcus told him, and finally a decision was made—and though Igor looked ready to throw a tantrum, it was decided. He retook his seat as Ludo walked out and addressed everyone else.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…"

He cleared his throat and turned to Fleur, who was holding her sister's hand tightly—and looked ready to face anything that they had to say. "Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

Everyone applauded but she just shook her head as she said, "I deserved zero."

Gabrielle shook her head this time and hugged her tightly as Ludo went on, "Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour. We therefore award him forty-seven points."

The Hufflepuffs went wild and he applauded loudly as well, however, he wasn't so sure that Cedric noticed anything else other than Cho—who his whole attention was on. Ludo then turned to Viktor, who was still trying to get Hermione's attention, "Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, as Viktor nodded his head simply and unsmilingly.

Finally he looked to Harry, who was looking grim, "Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect. He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."

Albus chuckled, that was something that Harry would do.

"Most of the judges," most of the judges gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, who glared at them all in return, "feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However… Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."

The crowd began to scream and cheer loudly at those words and Albus felt the weight lifted off his shoulders again. Two tasks down… just one more to go and then this would all finally be over. Ludo then addressed when the final task would be before Madam Pomfrey took charge and took the eight of them up to the castle to get warm.

"Thank goodness that's all over with," Minerva said to him as the rest of the school headed up to the castle for lunch, all of them talking loudly and in awe of what happened. "Only one more task to get through and then this dreadful year will be over. I can't say that I'm not looking forward to that."

"I couldn't agree with you more, Minerva," he answered firmly as they entered the hall.

"But still," she went on almost angrily, "Potter scared me half to death. I thought for sure he drowned back there. What was he thinking?"

"I know," he answered truthfully. "I was beginning to think so as well. Though I can't say I'm surprised that he would do something like that."

She shook her head. "Sometimes I think that he's a little to morale!"

"No," Albus answered her with a smile. "I don't think he even realized what he was doing… that's just his nature. He doesn't try to be the hero, but he feels that he needs to do something."

He stopped and looked behind him—almost sensing it.

Minerva looked back at him when she realized that he wasn't moving. "Albus?" she asked.

Albus was staring back at the lake, which now glittering innocently in the bright sunlight. He turned and continued following her through the great doors… however he could've sworn that he saw a few figures down there now celebrating the end of the Second Task.

**(Liked it? Hope so! Sorry for the long wait, had other things to take care of this week. But hopefully, the next chapter will be easier to write. Next chapter is when Mr. Crouch re-appears!)**


	42. Desperate Souls

**Chapter 41: Desperate Souls**

Things seem to be turning from bad to good inside Hogwarts—something that he was grateful for. The less trouble in the castle took a great load of worry off his mind. The tournament was more than halfway over, the champions and the hostages were all safe and sound, and things seem to be quieting down considerably since the beginning of the year. All they had to do was survive one last task and then this dreadful ordeal will finally be over.

It was a mark of how quiet things were becoming when he had even heard through the grapevine that Ronald Weasley was telling anyone who would listen that he had been kidnapped by the merpeople and was beaten into submission before tying him up at the bottom of the lake.

"Did he really say that?" Albus chuckled, highly amused.

"Yep," Dexter roared with laughter as the other portraits let out snorts of humor as well. "Don't know who he's kidding, but hey, he's a good story teller! He sure doesn't skip out on the details."

"Can't say that I've ever seen anything more pathetic," Phineas muttered, but anyone could see that he was fighting back a smirk.

Just at that moment, an owl fluttered in through the open window and dropped right in front of him. He untied it at once when he recognized the grubby handwriting. As soon as he flipped it open, he was right when he guessed it had been from Sirius. He had informed Sirius that Harry was alive and well once the Second Task was over and he knew that this could only be his answer.

Hoping that he was taking care of himself and not doing anything reckless, he flipped it open to read the short message.

**As I'm writing this message, I can almost see Hogwarts in the distance in front of me. I want to know what is going on, and if you have any answers yet because this waiting is slowly driving me crazy.**

Albus groaned loudly. Surely, Sirius hadn't come back this far had he?

He ran his hand through his beard. He couldn't believe that he would… wait, oh, yes he would do something like this. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand to send him a Patronus message telling him that he would meet with him tonight if that was alright with him to tell him what he knew.

Once it was gone, he tossed the letter into the fire like he did with every letter he sent him. The last thing that he ever wanted to happen was for someone to find them and realize that Sirius was out there. He then began to think of safe hiding places for the runaway… just in case. He decided to ask him to meet him in the forest tonight… but still…

"But I still can't believe him," he sighed. "He really hasn't changed from the little boy that used to be sent up to me on a daily basis.

*That night*

Dusk had fallen by the time he got to the forest but he was in no hurry as he walked over the leaf-strewn ground and ducking under hanging branches as he neared a particularly large clearing. He stopped here and waited for his friend to appear. He waited for almost fifteen minutes… waiting… and then…

He heard the snapping of a twig from behind him. He then turned around and through the cover of the trees the form a giant black dog emerged from the very heart of the darkness itself. He smiled as the dog trotted over to him.

Albus held up a hand to stop him from doing anything before he held his wand over his head. "Homenum revelio," he said softly. Nothing happened… so no one else was around. But to be on the safe side… "Salvio Hexia… Protego Totalum…" once he was finished casting several more spells and was certain that they wouldn't be discovered, he said, "Alright, Sirius. If you could take your usual form."

And almost at once, the dog transformed and the man stood back up on two legs. "Dumbledore," he said. His voice was still very hoarse, his hair was matted and stringy, his gaunt face was so pale that he almost shined like a ghost through the dark… but even so, Albus could tell that he looked much healthier than the last time he saw him.

"Lumos," he said softly and the tip of his wand ignited so that they could see properly. He smiled and said, "Sirius. It is so good to see you again. And while I can't say that I'm surprised that you're here, don't you see how dangerous this is?"

"Of course I do," he croaked irritably. "But I needed to be here… with all this happening around here… of course I'm worried about what is gonna happen to my godson. How is he?"

"As well as he can be given the circumstances," Albus answered softly. "He made it past the first two tasks. They were a site to see without a doubt…" And he then quickly told him about what he had seen during those tasks. Once he finished Sirius smirked, "Of course he would bring the girl back up with him. I mean, if he can't allow someone as pathetic as Wormtail to be killed, sure he would save a little girl."

"That he would," Albus chuckled. "The trio are up at the castle doing just fine at the moment. And the Third Task ends in June. So we just have to last until then."

"Something that I'm looking forward to," Sirius sighed again as he sat down on a fallen log. He ran his hand through his mess of hair and said so quietly that he almost missed it: "I can't believe that this all happened." He then glared up at him, "How could you let him compete?"

Albus shook his head; he has suspected that Sirius would ask him that. He told him with as much sincerity in his tone, "Believe me Sirius. The last thing that I wanted was for Harry to be entered. The whole reason that I put the age limit up was to prevent something like this from happening. I still don't know how his name came out of the Goblet, but there's nothing I can do about it now."

"Surely there's some way…?" Sirius asked quickly. "Some way that he doesn't have to compete any further right?"

"I racked my brains with that very same question Sirius, yet I couldn't find one," he confessed sadly. "But he made it through two of the three… all that's left is this last task, then this will all be over."

"June," Sirius groaned, running his hands over his thin face. There was a long pause.

"I understand that professor," he answered in annoyance once he thought it over. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Albus walked over to sit next to him on the log and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I have to admire your dedication, Sirius. Not too many people would've back all this way just to ensure that their godson is safe. Especially, for someone in your position."

"Yeah," Sirius answered grimly. "I know that it's not the smartest thing to do, but you see I had to… when I got his letter over the summer about his scar hurting him…" he trailed off. He then looked up at him and asked, "Why is that? Harry said in his letter that his scar hurts him whenever Voldemort's near him right? Why would it hurt him over the summer? Why would it hurt at all? And when has Voldemort ever been near him?"

"Those are very good questions," Albus said, not looking forward to explaining. "But to put it simply, the two of them are connected by the curse that failed. Nothing like this has ever been seen or done before so I can't answer with certainty. But I believe that it hurts him whenever Voldemort is near because it is some kind of warning…"

"But then why would it hurt over the summer?" Sirius asked at once, his pale face growing ever paler. "I mean, Voldemort wasn't there was he?"

"No," Albus answered. "Of that I am certain. You see… when Lily died protecting him from Voldemort, she gave him a lingering protection of love. After the attack I moved Harry to his aunt house, her only remaining relative. The only other person who shares Lily Potter's blood… so long as he is there, Voldemort cannot touch him. Lily's sacrifice had given her son the strongest protection imaginable and because of that, Voldemort cannot enter anywhere near Privet Drive. And besides even if he could, he is still far too weak to make the attempt."

"Then why…?" Sirius began but Albus sighed.

"I'm afraid that I don't have all the answers," he answered him.

"What are we going to do?" he asked softly.

"Harry is still young," Albus answered firmly. "He's just a fourteen-year-old boy… a child barely a teenager. The best we can do for now is to protect him as best we can."

"Well, we sure seem to be doing a great job of that," he muttered bitterly.

They sat in silence for a while before he asked, "Do you know how this is happening? I mean, he has to be behind this doesn't he? How is he controlling everything from—wherever the hell he is?"

Albus didn't need to ask who he was talking about. He got up, his bones creaking slightly, and began pacing around the clearing. After a few minutes he said, "I knew, before the school year even started, that Voldemort has been planning something involving Harry and the Triwizard Tournament. Yet I still don't know what it is or how."

When he saw Sirius's bewildered face he told him, "Everything that has been happening started last summer. For months, I knew that the signs were pointing in a dangerous direction. First Wormtail escaped…"

He could hear Sirius's knuckles crack angrily when he mentioned Wormtail, "And not long after that, Bertha Jorkins vanished in Albania, the place where Voldemort had hidden himself. Harry's scar is hurting; the Dark Mark showing up at the Quidditch World Cup… it doesn't take a genius to see that Voldemort is on a comeback trail, which is why I insisted on bringing Alastor Moody here to teach just in case."

He waited to see if Sirius said anything; when he didn't he went on, "But Harry is very well protected—he has been since the attack on him as an infant. Trying to go after him at Privet Drive is impossible for Voldemort, and Harry is being protected and watched in more ways than even he realizes. I just can't see any way Voldemort could get to him—especially now that he is at the castle. And so, though it pains me to admit it, the best I can do was to wait and keep my eyes and ears open and wait until I get a hint of what Voldemort is planning."

He took off his glasses to rub his tired eyes. "The moment I read Harry's name after it came out of the Goblet of Fire, I began running through all possibilities I could think of. Of course I knew at once that Harry never would've put his name into the Goblet, and he couldn't have been entered under Hogwarts, as we already announced a champion for Hogwarts. And so, whoever _did_ enter Harry's name would have to have used a pretty strong spell to get the Goblet to recognize a fourth school."

"At least you believed him," Sirius said at once. "I mean, I spoke to Harry through the fire months ago right before the First Task and he was having a rough time of it. Even his best friend didn't believe him."

"Yes," Albus answered grimly. "This year has been very tough for him. Thankfully, things are looking up… but the point is that I knew he couldn't have done this. He's usually powerful for his age, but he couldn't have done anything to the Goblet. I have eyes and ears on him all the time, and I know for a fact that he went up to the common room the night before and didn't leave until breakfast on Halloween morning. It's obvious that Harry had nothing to do with this. But if Harry didn't put his name in, then why was his name in there at all? There is no doubt in my mind… Voldemort is behind it. And somebody at Hogwarts is working for him."

Sirius stared at him. "Who?" he demanded at once.

"Well, that's the million galleon question," Albus answered wearily. "Yes, who? Because when you think about it, there really aren't all that many possibilities."

"What about Snape?" he demanded getting up and glaring at him long and hard. "The greasy-haired git is a Death Eater right? He has to…?"

Albus shook his head and interrupted, "Severus is no more a Death Eater than myself, Sirius. I assure you that he isn't the one doing this."

"Then…?" Sirius asked, though Albus could see he didn't look convinced.

"There are lots of students here, but Voldemort isn't strong enough to be recruiting new followers yet," Albus said at once, going through the possibilities. "His Death Eaters clearly don't know he's returned. There's almost no way a student could be responsible – and besides, precious few could have managed to Confund the Goblet anyway. And I trust my staff. I know that _none_ of them are working for Voldemort."

He clearly said this last part to remind Sirius that he included Severus. Sirius got the hint and just snorted.

"I have known Madame Maxime for several years," he went on, "And I know that she would never do anything like this. I also know that she wouldn't do it anymore than Hagrid would…"

"But that doesn't leave any other possibilities," Sirius said thinking it over.

"I had two to begin with… Igor Karkaroff and Ludo Bagman," Albus said.

"Bagman?" Sirius repeated with his eyebrows raised. "I know the man is a bit of an idiot…"

"He was once charged with passing information to Voldemort," Albus told him and Sirius stared at him, "Though I highly doubt it he did it on purpose. After Voldemort fell from power, Ludo was put on trial for giving information about the Ministry to Augustus Rookwood. According to Ludo, he did not know that Rookwood was a Death Eater. Rookwood had been a friend of Ludo's father and had persuaded Ludo into giving him the information by talking about getting Ludo a job at the Ministry. Barty Crouch attempted to place Bagman in Azkaban for this exchange of information for a certain amount of time, but Ludo was cleared of all charges… He hasn't been accused of any criminal activity since then… at least not to my knowledge."

He sighed before going back to his explanation, "But back to the point, neither of these two seemed all that likely to be the culprit either. To be honest, both are inherently weak people who simply don't seem bright enough to convincingly pull off a scheme like this. Nor would either seem to have a motive. But one is a former Death Eater, and the other was at least accused once of working for Voldemort as well. I've been watching them both very carefully this year. But now with Barty suddenly taken ill…"

"You think that he might have something to do with this?" Sirius asked. "I heard the bastard was taking sick." He then whispered under his breath, "Hopefully he'd choke on his medicine."

Albus gave him a sharp look, but he understood Sirius anger towards Barty. The man had sent him to Azkaban after all with no trial… "I really don't know," he told him softly. "I knew Barty for years, taught him myself when he was here… and I happened to have noticed that he had been acting a little differently than normal… but I know for a fact that he left after the feast last Halloween so he couldn't have slipped Harry's in. As well, he is known for having fought the Death Eaters as harshly as they have."

Sirius stared at him. He sighed and sat back next to him. "I don't know…"

They were silent for a short time before Sirius said. "Well, whatever. So long as you keep my godson safe so that he lives through the final task that's all I want."

Albus gave him a sad look. "I'm doing my best Sirius," he told him. "If there was something else I could've done I would've by now. The best we can do is watch over him and help him should he need it."

Sirius threw him a dark look before he said firmly. "I don't care what you say. I want to be closer to him. Just knowing that I'm nearby should something happen means a lot to me."

"I know," he answered and Sirius looked at him. "And I know that would mean the world to Harry as well—almost as much as your freedom means to him. But I knew that I could never tell you want to do. You can stay here, Sirius if you insist, but you have to be careful. Right now, our trio and myself are the only ones around here who know about you and your abilities. And if you insist on staying, I know that there is a cave up on the edge of Hogsmeade that would serve to hide you."

Sirius looked up at him at once and he smiled, "I believe that it will be the safest place for you, but you must be careful," he said firmly. "If anyone should ever see you, you will be thrown back into Azkaban faster than blinking and there won't be anything I can do to get you out of it. And also," he said this part very seriously, "I want you to discourage Harry from coming out to visit. You know as well as I do that once he learns that you're here he will want to see you. But should he try, it would only serve to put him at risk and the less chances we take with his safety the better… don't you agree?"

Sirius looked a little disappointed but he didn't say anything as he nodded. "I better get back to Buckbeak," he croaked.

Albus nodded courteously in return. "I will see you soon I hope?"

Sirius transformed back into the grim-like dog and trotted off into the cover of the darkness. Albus stayed there for a few more minutes, savoring the quiet of the forest, before he too turned and left as well.

*A few days later*

Albus was lost in his own head, his Pensieve on his desk so that he could put his thoughts in to relieve himself of his headache.

He was just reliving what Severus had told him earlier that day… "It's coming back… Karkaroff's too… stronger and clearer than ever…"

He showed him the Dark Mark that had been burned into his arm… once Voldemort had been defeated thirteen years ago, all the Dark Mark on the Death Eaters had fainted until it became something like a vivid red tattoo… but now that mark was becoming dark again, yet another sign that the dark side is gathering strength again.

But what on earth was truly happening here? He felt as if he was trapped in a nightmare for nothing was making sense or adding up… just what was going on here? He finished putting his thoughts away as he turned wearily to the newspaper articles he had been getting. The latest one on top.

_Harry Potter's Secret Heartache_

He sighed, knowing that this was just another disgusting article by Rita as he turned to the other clippings, this time talking about Barty. _He_ _hasn't been seen in public since November… house appears deserted… St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries decline comment… Ministry refuses to confirm rumors of critical illness…_

Barty had simply disappeared… no one has heard from him in weeks. He tried on several accounts to visit Barty at his home, but nothing. He leaned forward, propping his elbows up on his desk to rest his forehead against his hands. Now that he thought of it, Barty hadn't been himself since the World Cup when the Dark Mark appeared.

He ran his hand through his beard again irritably. Just what was going on? For something to do, he flipped through the clippings, looking for a particular article. When he found it, he picked it up to read it for what felt like the millionth time:

_Still Missing Ministry Employee._

'_I know as well as the rest of us just how terrible Bertha's memory is,' said the head of Magical Games and Sports Ludo Bagman during an interview on Wednesday evening, 'But you think she would've turned up by now…'_

_If anyone has any word to Bertha's whereabouts, then please contact the Ministry for her family is desperate for any information at all. Please see page 4 for the full interview._

Albus shook his head as he set the article down. Yet another thing that wasn't right. Ludo had been going on for so long about how bad Bertha's memory is… why is that?

For the Bertha he knew was anything but forgetful. Sometimes he felt the need to pull his hair out he was so frustrated. He got up and began to pace around his office for awhile. Something that helped to clear his thoughts before he looked took a quick glance down at the grounds. In the distance, he could just make out Hagrid's massive form in front of his cabin digging. He leaned against the windowpane, the cool glass feeling good against his face as he watched Hagrid digging for awhile.

But soon night fell and blocked Hagrid from his view before he decided to turn in early for the night and hope that he could see for once.

*Next morning*

"That poor girl," Dilys sighed from her portrait.

He glanced up at her and asked, his eyebrows knitted together, "What happened? Who are you talking about Dilys?"

"I was in the hospital wing when she suddenly came in, crying something terrible," she told him. "Hermione Granger."

Albus raised his eyebrows in concern. "Is she alright? What happened?"

"That damn Skeeter woman that's what!" Dilys frowned heavily. "That bunch of lies in the prophet the other day talked about her playing around with other boys hearts and now middle aged women from all over are sending the girl hate mail. Today she opened a letter and it was filled with undiluted bubotuber pus!"

Albus wasn't sure how to react to that. That woman had now reached an all new low and his anger towards Rita was now reaching its breaking point. Was she really willing to sink this far just to get a story of lies.

But Dilys suddenly smirked and said, "I'd watch out from here on out if I were here. Granger vowed that she would get her back for this if it's the last thing she did!"

Albus smiled, knowing that Madam Pomfrey would take good care of her, but still angry. He silently hoped that Hermione would get Rita back for this…

As the week went on, he would watch from his seat at the breakfast table as more hate mail arrived for Hermione. Normally, she wouldn't bother to open it, however two or three times a few of them turned out to be Howlers and they exploded at the table to shriek insults at her for everyone to hear.

'_This year is almost over,'_ he kept telling himself. _'Just a few more weeks left to go and then we can put this all behind us.' _

He kept repeating that to himself like a spell. Finally, he felt that it was time for the champions to know what the Third Task was. He sent word to Minerva, Pomona, Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime to inform the champions that they should head down to the Quidditch field at eight thirty to find out the final task.

Just this last one… if they could make it through this then it will all be over.

*That night*

"Dumbledore!" Everard's voice called. It never failed… just as he was almost finished with the evenings work, someone interrupts him.

"Yes?" he asked tiredly; who was tired and had just been thinking that he would turn in early again tonight.

"Just seen Potter running up here," he answered. "He's trying to figure out a way to get into your office."

Albus raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"Don't know," he answered with a shrug. "Was just keeping an eye on him like usual on your orders. Saw him and Diggory meet up in the hall before they left for the Quidditch field. Saw Diggory come back alone, but I didn't see Potter until a few minutes later and then he ran straight up here. Last I saw, Snape showed his face right outside your office. But it seemed important…"

Albus frowned, not liking where this was going. At once he left his desk and headed straight to the door and down the spiral staircase. Just as he walked through the stone gargoyle and, sure enough, there was Harry and Severus there. "Is there a problem?" he asked calmly, looking between them.

"Professor!" Harry said as soon as he saw him, sidestepping Severus, breathing hard and gasped out, "Mr. Crouch is here - he's down in the forest, he wants to speak to you!"

Albus stared at him. Crouch? Here? Albus couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had just been thinking of Crouch… why would he be here now? He snapped out of his thoughts and said promptly, "Lead the way," and then he took off, following Harry closely.

As they walked, he asked, trying to stay as calm as possible, "What did Mr. Crouch say. Harry?" He knew that this could be important, if Barty was here, then why didn't he come up to his office himself? Where had he been all this time?

"Said he wants to warn you…" gasped Harry hurrying as he led him to the front doors and out onto the grounds in the direction of the forest. "Said he's done something terrible… he mentioned his son… and Bertha Jorkins… and - and Voldemort… something about Voldemort getting stronger…"

"Indeed," he said, hardly able to hear his own voice, now hurrying himself along, almost overtaking the boy. This was valuable information… maybe Crouch could put together what was going on.

"He's not acting normally," Harry said, also speeding up to keep up beside him. "He doesn't seem to know where he is. He keeps talking like he thinks Percy Weasley's there, and then he changes, and says he needs to see you… I left him with Viktor Krum."

Albus almost stopped dead at those words. "You did?" he asked sharply, he took longer strives… if that was true, then there might be a chance that Viktor's in trouble. And as for Crouch being crazy, he knew that this was far more than that. Unless he…

His eyes widened in realization. There is a possibility that Barty is under the Imperius Curse. He seems to be fighting it… Harry was talking about Barty's condition as if his mind was fighting something within him. He is certainly showing symptoms of fighting a long term Imperius Curse, the moments of lucidity vs. the fact he wants to talk to him.

But if that's true… then who put him under the curse and for how long? There was one answer he could think of… the reason that Barty had been looking ill—hadn't been himself for months… he must've been put under it before the tournament even started… the one who put him under it was the one who was behind everything happening this year.

It was the only thing that made sense to him. Harry also mentioned that Barty was trying to warn him, as well as saying that everything was his fault, and mentioned Bertha, his son as well as Harry and Voldemort who is gaining power… most likely the mystery Death Eater has been the one controlling him. But Albus had no idea why Barty would mention his son who had been dead for years now. And what about Bertha Jorkins? He blames himself for something that happened to her.

He looked to Harry and asked, "Do you know if anybody else saw Mr. Crouch?"

"No," said Harry at once. Albus had to fight the surge of dread inside him—that was what he was afraid of. "Krum and I were talking, Mr. Bagman had just finished telling us about the third task, we stayed behind, and then we saw Mr. Crouch coming out of the forest -"

They were nearing the Beauxbatons carriage and then he asked, "Where are they?"

"Over here," said Harry, moving in front him and quickly leading the way through the trees. "Viktor?" Harry shouted, and to Albus's alarm no one answered.

Harry looked to him and said worriedly, "They were here. They were definitely somewhere around here…"

Albus bit his lip as pulled out his wand. "Lumos."

Its narrow beam traveled from black trunk to black trunk, illuminating the ground. And then it fell upon the still form of Viktor Krum—lying sprawled on the forest floor. They both ran forward to him and Albus was looking all around him, trying to see if he could see anyone—but nothing.

There wasn't another soul around. But he then bent over Viktor and gently lifted one of his eyelids to check his condition. He could see his pupil dilate from the light his wand illuminated and he felt relief. He was alright, just stunned. "Stunned," he assured softly to himself before he looked around him at the surrounding trees again, but still not seeing anything.

Harry was breathing hard from the run and asked, "Should I go and get someone? Madam Pomfrey?"

"No," he said at once. It was obvious that someone attacked Viktor and taken Barty… the attacker could still be near and the last thing he wanted was Harry out of his sight. "Stay here."

He raised his wand into the air and pointed it in the direction of Hagrid's cabin before he sent a Patronus message to him, telling him to come at once before he bent over Viktor again and muttered, "Ennervate."

Almost immediately Viktor opened his eyes and looked around him in a daze. When he saw him, he tried to get up but he put a hand on his shoulder, knowing that he needed rest.

He then spoke, hearing him speak for the first time since Christmas, "He attacked me!" and put a hand to his head where he was obviously attacked from behind, "The old madman attacked me! I vos looking around to see vare Potter had gone and he attacked from behind!"

He told him to lie still when he then heard the sound of thunderous footfalls reached them, and Hagrid came panting into sight with Fang at his heels and his crossbow in his hands.

His eyes were wide as he stared first at him, to Harry, and finally to Viktor on the ground, "Professor Dumbledore! Harry - what the -?"

Albus stood back up and started giving him instructions, "Hagrid, I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff," What they needed now was to stay calm… there might still be time to get to Barty before something happened to him, but his first priority at the moment was ensuring that the boys were safe. "His student has been attacked. When you've done that, kindly alert Professor Moody -"

"No need, Dumbledore," said a wheezy growl from the darkness. "I'm here."

To his relief, Alastor was limping toward them, leaning on his staff, his wand lit and ready for action. He looked down at his leg and muttered furiously, "Damn leg. Would've been here quicker… what's happened? Snape said something about Crouch -"

"Crouch?" Hagrid repeated sounding completely lost but Albus reminded him sharply, "Karkaroff, please, Hagrid!"

Hagrid snapped out of it and stuttered, "Oh yeah… right y'are, Professor…" before he turned and ran in the direction of the lake and the Durmstrang ship.

Albus then turned back to Alastor and informed him, "I don't know where Barty Crouch is but it is essential that we find him."

"I'm onto it," he growled and went off into the forest with his wand held high. Albus watched him go before he turned his attention back to the grounds, alert to everything that was happening around him. Every sound, every movement, he was keeping a close watch on—no one spoke again until they heard the unmistakable sounds of Hagrid and Fang returning. He looked up and Karkaroff was hurrying along behind them in his usual sleek silver furs and bad mood.

As he expected, when Igor saw his prize student on the ground he cried out, "What is this? What's going on?"

"I vos attacked!" Viktor said, now in a sitting position and rubbing the back of his head where it was obviously still sore, "Mr. Crouch or votever his name -"

Igor stared at him before he gasped out, "Crouch attacked you? Crouch attacked you? The Triwizard judge?"

Albus tried to explain what was going on, though to be honest he wasn't sure what he was going to say since he didn't know what was happening either, but before he could say anything, Igor had drawn himself up to his full height, looking livid.

"Treachery!" he bellowed, pointing a shaking finger at him and yelled out, "It is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretenses, Dumbledore! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak Potter into the tournament, though he is underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my champion out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you, with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences - here's what I think of you!"

He then spat on the ground at his feet. While this didn't bother him in the slightest, and he planned to talk some sense to Igor once he calmed down… Hagrid on the other hand had seized the front of Karkaroff's furs, lifted him into the air, and slammed him against a nearby tree.

"Apologize!" Hagrid snarled as Karkaroff gasped for breath, his feet dangling in midair.

"Hagrid, no!" he yelled out quickly, seeing how Karkaroff was starting to turn blue. He could understand his frustration, he would probably act the same way seeing his one of his students attacked. But right now they had more important matters to deal with. Hagrid, still looking angry, let go and Karkaroff slid all the way down the trunk and slumped in a huddle at its roots, staring at Hagrid with a look of the utmost fear on his face.

Thinking that it would be for the best to remove Hagrid before anything else happened, he told him to escort Harry back up to the castle and out of harm's way. But before he even finished speaking, he looked quickly into Harry's mind.

_He could see him talking to Viktor when all of a sudden Barty Crouch came stumbling through the forest. Exhausted, ragged, and filthy, Barty looked as if he hadn't eaten, slept, or stopped traveling for days. He was talking to a tree as if thinking it was someone else._

_"… __and when you've done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve…"_

_"__Mr. Crouch?" Harry said slowly and loudly._

_"… __and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she's bringing, now Karkaroff's made it a round dozen… do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will…"_

_He watched as Barty's already wide eyes began to bulge, as if something inside his mind was fighting for control. The unmistakable signs of someone fighting the Imperius Curse. When he talked to the tree, gave into the curse effects, it was easier for his mind, but he continued to fight whatever force had control over him for what was obvious keeping him going._

_He watched as he then stumbled to Harry as soon as he saw him and gasped out, fighting with all his strength to tell speak._

_"__Dumbledore!" gasped Mr. Crouch. "I need… see… Dumbledore…"_

_"__Okay," said Harry, "if you get up, Mr. Crouch, we can go up to the-"_

_Whatever he was fighting again, whatever the one in control was making him see or do, it was obviously taking a toll on his mind. But he had something that he needed to say… something that he was willing to risk his sanity for. "__I've done… stupid… thing…" he breathed, looking as if word he spoke seemed to cost him a terrible effort. "Must… tell… Dumbledore…"_

_"__Get up, Mr. Crouch," said Harry loudly and clearly. "Get up, I'll take you to Dumbledore!"_

_His eyes rolled as he looked up at Harry, unable to recognize him or anything else around him. "Who… you?" he whispered._

_When he tried to tell him he was a student Barty's eyes filled with fear and gasped, "__You're not… his?" _

_"__No," said Harry, clearly not understanding what he was saying either._

_"__Dumbledore's?" he then questioned.__ And when Harry tried to answer he whispered. "__Warn… Dumbledore…"_

_But just as Harry was trying to convince him to take him up to the castle the strain must've been too much for him and he gave in, talking to the tree again. He watched as Harry told Viktor to stay with him while he went to go and get him but just as he was about to leave, Barty must've seized what could've been his only chance to get his message to him. He grabbed him and his words disturbed him._

_"__Don't… leave… me!" he whispered, his eyes bulging again. "I… escaped… must warn… must tell… see Dumbledore… my fault… all my fault… Bertha… dead… all my fault… my son… my fault… tell Dumbledore… Harry Potter… the Dark Lord… stronger… Harry Potter…"_

But that was as much as he could see. After that, Harry ran off and left them here. At the moment, he could also see the boy was planning on going up to the owlery to send a letter to Sirius. Now was not the time.

"Maybe I'd better stay here. Headmaster…" Hagrid's voice cut his concentration off.

Knowing what was best, he repeated with as much authority as he could, "You will take Harry back to school, Hagrid. Take him right up to Gryffindor Tower." He then turned to Harry, and told him firmly, not wanting him out of the common room tonight, "And Harry - I want you to stay there. Anything you might want to do - any owls you might want to send - they can wait until morning, do you understand me?"

Harry looked at him startled, obviously wondering how he knew what he was thinking and stuttered, "Er - yes,"

Hagrid still looked angry as he growled, "I'll leave Fang with yeh Headmaster," glaring at Igor, who was still sprawled at the foot of the tree, "Stay, Fang. C'mon, Harry."

Once they were out of the way, he turned to Igor and said, "I apologize for that… Hagrid is as loyal to his friends as he is brave. But yelling and blaming each other isn't going to solve anything."

Karkaroff glared at him, though he didn't say anything as he's eyes flickered to Hagrid's retreating back. He then turned to Viktor and asked, "What happened here?"

Viktor sighed and explained, "I vanted to talk with Potter about something. After Bagman told us vot the next task vos going to be, I pulled him here. Ve then talked for a little vhile before Crouch came out of the forest."

"And what did he say?" Albus asked quietly.

"He vos mad!" he answered at once, pointing to the trees where he stumbled out. "He vos talking to the trees like they vore people! But he kept saying that he needed to see you."

"And did you see anything after Harry left?" he asked softly. "Anyone else?"

"No," he told him, rubbing the sore spot on his head. "I vos trying to see vare Potter had gone and Crouch attacked me when my back vos turned!"

"You saw him attack you?" Albus pressed on.

"Vell, no," Viktor admitted. "But I didn't see anyone else. vho else could it have been?"

Who indeed. He had a bad feeling that only one who could've answered that was no longer here. He looked up to the trees were Alastor went in and would, hopefully, find Barty before it's too late.

"Well, Viktor if you aren't injured?" he asked him. When he shook his head and got up to his feet, he then turned to Igor. "He should be just fine," he assured him as the Durmstrang headmaster scrambled back to his feet. "He had just been stunned, and should be back to normal after a goodnight's sleep. But should it still hurt, Madam Pomfrey will be more than capable to help."

Karkaroff only glared at him before he turned to Viktor and hissed, "Ve are going."

He watched as the two of them marched away back in the direction of the ship, before he also went back up to the castle. This turned out to be another sleepless night as he wrote to the Ministry, telling them that one of their best employees had disappeared.

*Morning*

He had waited all night and most of the early hours of the morning for Alastor to return. Finally, exhausted, he limped into his office only to tell him that Crouch wasn't anywhere.

"And you searched the forest?" he asked him exhausted.

"Every inch of it," he growled in tiredness. "Not a trace of him. It's like he just disappeared. Could be anywhere." He shook his grizzled head. "Only thing I know for sure is that he's not here anymore."

Albus sighed.

"Not sure who or what did it," he went on, "But if you ask me, it was either Crouch who attacked Krum, or… someone else."

"Yes," he said softly.

"What exactly did Potter say?" he asked suddenly interested.

"From what I could see, he wanted to warn me of something, but he wasn't able to come out and say what it was exactly," Albus explained grimly as he leaned his head against his clasped hands, fighting hard to stay awake. "He was under a powerful Imperius Curse, I'm sure of that and he was fighting it with everything he had."

"The Imperius Curse?" Alastor asked disdainfully. "Now who would want to put a curse on Crouch?"

"The same person who's behind everything happening this year no doubt," Albus answered, struggling to keep his eyes open now. "Whatever Barty wanted to say to me, it must've been important for him to risk both his life and his sanity."

"I didn't think he was sick all this time," Alastor said gruffly.

"No," he said. "I had some Auror's at the Ministry go to Barty's house and check, but of course, no one was there. All they found was a thick layer of dust suggesting that no one has been in that house for some time. He must've been traveling for weeks to make it this far."

"Anything else?" Alastor asked.

"Only theories…" Albus said softly before he crossed to the window and looked down at the grounds. "Each as wild as the next…"

They were silent for a moment.

"Potter was sure reckless going off with Krum like that though," Alastor stated with a grin.

"Don't remind me of that," Albus sighed. "I understand that Viktor would want to talk to him, but at least do it inside the castle…" he tried not to groan at the thought. "Don't let any of the champions out of your sight. Whoever attacked Krum could've just as easily have killed them both last night. If the attacker thinks that either of them knows something, then it could only put them in danger. But for now, go and get some sleep Alastor. I think we both could use it."

He didn't bother to look at him as he heard the familiar clunking of his wooden leg head to the door to the door and it shut behind him. Alone again…

Wearily, ignoring the bright sunshine on the grounds, headed straight for his soft bed. But before he went to sleep, his mind continued to spin. Just what was happening here? If Barty had been kidnapped, then they would've been hiding in the trees near the boys last night. But how would they know where Crouch was? And why not attack the boys and then take Crouch before anyone got near him? If they didn't want to kill them, then they could've easily just stunned Harry and Viktor and after they took Barty and then modify their memories? But they waited till Harry was out of the way until they acted, didn't they? Why would they wait? They could've prevented anyone ever knowing that Barty had been on the grounds if they had acted… which left only one possibility…

They didn't _want_ Harry killed… they wanted him alive for some reason.

However, what disturbed him most was what Barty had said…_"He's getting stronger."_

What he didn't tell Sirius or even Alastor was that he had several possibilities to how this was happening… but the list basically boiled down to three options:

The first of which was that somebody could be under the Imperius Curse. Well, Barty was indeed under the Imperius Curse all right, but he couldn't have been the one who put Harry's name in the Goblet.

The second was Voldemort could be actively possessing/controlling somebody. But that possibility seems the least unlikely however. There are distinct signs when a person is controlled by Voldemort such as Quirrell, and nobody around is showing those signs right now. Besides which, he had a pretty shrewd guess that Voldemort is laying low with Wormtail and getting his health back so it's probably safe to rule that possibility out.

Or finally, somebody could be using Polyjuice Potion or other forms of disguise and now be impersonating another person here at Hogwarts.

As far as the Imperius Curse and Polyjuice Potion go, there's a challenge here. There really aren't very many people around who could conceivably be impersonated or controlled, either. After all, no Death Eater could convincingly play the part of a student or teacher for long without that person's friends picking up on it; even Karkaroff and Madame Maxime have to know their students, and even the first years still have to be able to write home.

So with these possibilities in mind, he had been keeping a very close watch on anything and everyone acting suspicious all year. Before long, though, the case against his three main suspects continued to make less sense. Severus has been reporting to him that Karkaroff fears Voldemort's return and intends to flee if he ever should—and since Severus's has mastered Legilimency, he had no doubt that Karkaroff was being honest. Meanwhile Ludo Bagman has also been acting strange this year as well, but in a completely different way. Of course, he doubted that whatever Ludo was up to had anything to do with Voldemort. And then there had been Barty Crouch, who had been looking ill and had even stopped going to work and judging the tournament. And if Voldemort has simply been using him as his puppet, then why hasn't he continued using him to his advantage? This maked no sense whatsoever.

There was still a piece to this puzzle that he still needed to find, and he was willing to bet that it was big. He tried to come up with other suspects, but this list, too, is surprisingly short.

Almost all of Voldemort's Death Eaters are either dead, in Azkaban, or—or such as Lucius—hiding out in the wizarding world pretending that they've seen the errors of their ways and continuing to live their lives. Truthfully, it wouldn't be hard for him to confirm that all of them are in fact _still_ leading their lives. Lucius Malfoy, Macnair, Avery, Yaxley, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle… as far as he knew, they were still acting the part of innocent witnesses to the First War. Besides, none of them have been hanging around Hogwarts—not since Lucius had been fired from the Board of Governors.

There's one exception, of course and that's Wormtail. He's able to stick with Voldemort full time because he's presumed dead. But Albus also knew that Voldemort would need Wormtail close by for he's still far too weak. He couldn't see any other explanation…

Until last night when Barty Crouch showed up on the Hogwarts grounds, raving about his _son_.

But Barty Crouch Jr. was dead, he died in Azkaban years ago. Barty handed his own son to the Dementors himself… or…

His eyes widened just as he sat on the edge of his bed and removed his glasses. Or_, is that what everyone thinks?_ Most deceased Death Eaters, of course, can easily be confirmed. But what if there's _another_ one? Another presumed-dead-but-still-alive Death Eater, that is?

But if that's the case, then who had died? He knew for a fact that someone had died in Azkaban a year after Barty's son was brought in and there was a grave that was marked with his name. And if it hadn't been Crouch then who was it? He honestly didn't have any idea how Crouch Jr. could have managed to escape from Azkaban if it was him, but given his father's strange behavior over most of the year, he certainly would have had a hunch long before this that the family was somehow involved in whatever was going on wouldn't he? Perhaps there was a chance that he had somehow escaped Azkaban and was really alive.

He felt the need to beat his head in with a broomstick or something… Voldemort is _winning this battle_, and there's nothing he could do about it. Like a stalled murder investigation, he's pursued all of his leads to dead ends and had come up with nothing. Finally, his weariness took full effect and was asleep by the time his head hit his pillow.

*A few days later*

Albus pretty much gave up the idea of ever getting a decent night sleep again. While keeping a close watch on the grounds and the champions as they got ready for the Third Task, he hardly had time to do anything else.

Minerva in fact came to him and almost had to threaten him to get some sleep at night, which he was privately grateful for. One day, however, about a week after Barty appeared on the grounds, he was in his office with Alastor, and Cornelius. He had just put his Pensieve away when they arrived, having been watching the old trials, hoping for some kind of clue but found none.

"I had Kingsley Shacklebolt put a temporary halt to his searching for Sirius Black," Cornelius said pompously. "So that he could look into Barty's house for anything that might tell us what has been happening here. But when he got permission to enter, there wasn't anything that suggested foul play. The whole house was full of dust, showing that no one's been home for awhile, however he also reported that there were no signs of a struggle. Nothing broken, no signs of dark magic… it's like he just got up and left on his own, Dumbledore."

"Cornelius," Albus said slowly. "I'm sure you know Barty as well as I do. He has been known to drag himself to work even when he wasn't feeling well. And then all of a sudden he stopped coming at all?"

"Well, what do you suggest?" he asked bitterly. "I admit that it is surprising behavior from Barty, but like I said, there's nothing suggesting…"

"Don't you think it's obvious?" Alastor barked irritably. "Crouch has been under the Imperius Curse!"

"What?" he jumped dramatically, staring at him in horror. "What do you mean?"

"Cornelius," Albus said slowly so that the Minister couldn't miss a word. "Barty shows up here when no one's seen or heard from him for weeks, raving about his son and Bertha."

Cornelius stood there frozen for a moment until Alastor slammed his staff down on the floor with a loud bang and snapping him out of his daze. "Albus s-see reason," he stuttered. "Barty Crouch Jr. is dead. He died in Azkaban years ago. And as for Bertha, well, we're still trying to find her…"

"Maybe if you thought to send someone out to find her as soon as she went missing, we might not be in this situation," Alastor barked at him.

"I'm not responsible for what happens in every department am I?" he asked him. "Ludo assured me that he had everything under control…"

"And you believed that?" he asked rolling both his magical and non-magical eyes. "Please that idiot doesn't have enough brains to fill a candlestick holder."

Albus raised his hands to prevent them from continuing to argue as Cornelius turned back to him and said, "Dumbledore, I'm afraid I don't see the connection, don't see it at all! Ludo says Bertha's perfectly capable of getting herself lost. I agree we would have expected to have found her by now, but all the same, we've no evidence of foul play, Dumbledore, none at all. As for her disappearance being linked with Barty Crouch's…"

Alastor, looking angrier by the second, growled, "And what do you thinks happened to Barty Crouch, Minister?"

"I see two possibilities, Alastor," he answered briskly, obviously easily intimidated by Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody. "Either Crouch has finally cracked - more than likely, I'm sure you'll agree, given his personal history - lost his mind, and gone wandering off somewhere -"

Albus frowned at him, angry that he was just willing to brush off the disappearance of one of his own employees so easily, and said, "He wandered extremely quickly, if that is the case, Cornelius."

"Or else - well…" Cornelius stuttered, his face turning red. "Well, I'll reserve judgment until after I've seen the place where he was found, but you say it was just past the Beauxbatons carriage?" Albus raised his eyebrows, having a very good idea to where this was going, "Dumbledore, you know what that woman is?"

Albus fought the need to roll his eyes as Alastor had done. Once again, Cornelius was letting prejudice was doing the thinking for him. He just had to know what a person's bloodline was and his mind was already made up about them… and it's not usually a good thing. He then answered softly, yet firmly, "I consider her to be a very able headmistress - and an excellent dancer."

Fudge now looked angry, "Dumbledore, come! Don't you think you might be prejudiced in her favor because of Hagrid? They don't all turn out harmless - if, indeed, you can call Hagrid harmless, with that monster fixation he's got -"

He interrupted calmly, not wanting to hear another word against either Hagrid or Madame Maxime. "I no more suspect Madame Maxime than Hagrid. I think it possible that it is you who are prejudiced, Cornelius."

Fudge looked outrage and opened his mouth to argue back with Alastor interrupted them. "Can we wrap up this discussion?" his magical eye pointing in the back of his head towards the closed door.

"Yes, yes," Cornelius snapped impatiently, "Let's go down to the grounds, then."

"No, it's not that," he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, "it's just that Potter wants a word with you, Dumbledore. He's just outside the door."

**(Sorry for the wait. But I hoped you enjoyed it! Now that I'm back in school, it might take a little longer to get posts up, but the next chapter we going into will be after he comes back to find that Harry was in his ****Pensieve. Until then…****)**


	43. Unspoken Bond

**Chapter 42: Unspoken Bond**

No, it's not that," he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, "it's just that Potter wants a word with you, Dumbledore. He's just outside the door."

Albus blinked in surprise. Harry? What on earth was he doing here? But before he could say anything, Alastor had limped over to the door and opened it. Sure enough, Harry was indeed standing there, looking as startled as they did.

"Hello, Potter," Alastor growled. "Come in, then."

Harry did what he was told, and was looking over them all as he stepped into the room. All at once, Cornelius's bad mood seemed to vanish as he rushed forward and cried out, "Harry! How are you?"

Albus didn't say anything, but for some reason he felt a stab of annoyance at Fudge. He knew that Cornelius had always had a tenacity to suck up to others, and while he couldn't tell him off for simply talking to him, but when he started treating Harry like they were close old friends, he didn't like it one bit.

"Fine," Harry said, though Albus couldn't help but notice that he wasn't looking at any of them when he said that—something that he did when he knew that he wasn't being honest. He had to fight a smile; the boy was easy to read… however Fudge didn't seem to notice. Not that he was surprised…

"We were just talking about the night when Mr. Crouch turned up on the grounds," Cornelius said pompously. "It was you who found him, was it not?"

"Yes," said Harry. He hesitated for a moment before he added, "I didn't see Madame Maxime anywhere, though, and she'd have a job hiding, wouldn't she?"

He couldn't help but smile at him at those words; and resisted to act childishly and say to Fudge, _'I told you so.'_

"Yes, well," Cornelius said, casting his eyes around to think of something to say, looking embarrassed, "we're about to go for a short walk on the grounds, Harry, if you'll excuse us… perhaps if you just go back to your class -"

"I wanted to talk to you. Professor," Harry said quickly, looking past the Minister to look at him. He looked at him hard for a moment—wondering what he should do. That was when he suddenly remembered that he had left his Pensieve in the cabinet behind him… and it gave him an idea.

"Wait here for me, Harry," he said with a nod. "Our examination of the grounds will not take long."

They left the office. As they walked, he thought back to what was sure to happen. He was sure that if Harry was as curious as he thought he was, then he would, without a doubt, spot the light coming from the cabinet and be compelled to see what it was. He felt bad about it, but Harry was an important part of this as well, and he knew that he had to see those memories as well as learn an important life lesson.

"You trust a student to be left alone in your office?" Alastor asked him as they left and walk out through the gargoyle. With Cornelius following behind them, Alastor limped up ahead to talk with him without Fudge listening in.

Albus smiled at him and answered, "Oh, we can trust Harry. It's not like I'll return to find it destroyed or anything. And I am curious to what he wants to talk to me about."

Alastor grunted. "Probably some teacher sent him up there."

"Most likely," he nodded, though personally, Albus highly doubted it. None of them said another word as they headed to the entrance hall, out the front doors and onto the grounds. They walked a short distance away to where they found Viktor Krum unconscious before he stopped and started pointing out the place to Cornelius. Alastor helped out as he informed them of the places that he searched—including the whole forest, but never found a trace of him. While Alastor talked Albus had noticed, to his great annoyance, that Cornelius kept glancing over to the Beauxbatons carriage with a knowing looking in his face. They walked around for a short time until the Minister said that he was needed back at the office, and he wasn't sorry to see him go.

He checked his watch after they saw the Minister off at the entrance; and he turned to Alastor and asked, "I believe that your next class is in fifteen minutes, Alastor?"

Alastor gave him an annoyed look and growled, "I know, I know. Who do you take me for?" he then limped off grumbling to himself—pulling out his flask as he went and taking a quick swig of it. Albus shook his head fondly before he headed back up to his office.

As he predicted, the first thing he noticed that Harry wasn't there—the second thing he saw was that the cabinet was wide open.

As soon as Phineas saw him, he cried out, "He's in your Pensieve, Dumbledore!" and then he pointed gleefully at the cabinet, obviously hoping that Harry was going to get into trouble. "He just walked right over and was looking in it and…"

Albus ignored him as he went over and dove into the Pensieve as well, landing in the courtroom, beside the boy. He made to interrupt him, but Harry was watching the scene where Barty Crouch and his son as though frozen—and thus obvious to anything else around him.

"I'm your son!" he screamed up at Crouch. "I'm your son!"

"You are no son of mine!" bellowed Barty, his eyes bulging suddenly; and Albus felt a terrible pain in his heart for how little Barty cared… though he had a sneaking suspicion that he loved his son more than he left on… he just never knew how to express it…

"I have no son!" at those words, his wife gave a gasp and fainted.

"Take them away!" Barty roared, spit flying from his mouth. "Take them away, and may they rot there!"

"Father! Father, I wasn't involved! No! No! Father, please!" the scared teen cried, now being dragged by the Dementors. Knowing that it was enough, he said softly, "I think Harry, it is time to return to my office."

Harry jumped at the sound of his name and looked at him with wide eyes. He looked first to his past self, who was watching Barty Crouch Jr. being taken away, before he glanced back at him and realization dawned on him.

"Come," he said softly and pulled the boy back with him. The familiar sensation of rising up and everything fading around him before they landed back on their feet in his office.

"Professor," Harry gasped at once when he let go, "I know I shouldn't've - I didn't mean - the cabinet door was sort of open and -"

"I quite understand," he assured him as he lifted the Pensieve out of its usual cabinet and to his desk before he took his seat. He then gestured for him to take a seat as well, and when he did he continued to stare at how the Pensieve returned to its original form.

"What is it?" Harry asked shakily.

"This? It is called a Pensieve," he answered simply. "I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."

"Er," said Harry nervously as he looked at it like it was something that might bite. He then explained, "At these times. I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form."

Suddenly understanding he asked carefully, "You mean… that stuff's your thoughts?"

"Certainly," he nodded as he decided to take out his wand and show him a demonstration. "Let me show you."

Simply just by thinking of the memories, he pulled them from his mind, feeling the memory being pulled and snapping off before he glanced at the single glistening strand of memory. He then added it to the bowl.

It was the memory of what happened the other night and Harry's face appeared to show him… he looked up to see Harry was staring dumbstruck at it. He didn't know why he looked so surprised. He has done many remarkable things… especially after everything that has happened this year…

He placed his hands on either side of the Pensieve and swirled it so that the image showed Severus, speaking, "It's coming back… Karkaroff's too… stronger and clearer than ever…"

Though he was aware of this already—even if Severus hadn't said a word to him. To be honest he would've been astonished if the Dark Mark didn't start to grow darker with everything that has been happening lately. "A connection I could have made without assistance," he sighed to himself, "but never mind."

He peered over the top of his glasses at the boy and explained, "I was using the Pensieve when Mr. Fudge arrived for our meeting and put it away rather hastily. Undoubtedly I did not fasten the cabinet door properly. Naturally, it would have attracted your attention."

Actually, he had planned for it on the spot. Why he did, he had hoped that maybe it would show some kind of clue… or rather… it was to teach Harry a lesson?

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, not looking at him.

He shook his head, letting it know that it was alright. But Albus knew better than anyone how Harry's childlike curiosity had often gotten the boy into trouble. While no harm had been done this time, he hoped that Harry would take this lesson with a grain of salt. He had left the cabinet open on purpose so that he could see it…

"Curiosity is not a sin," he said to him. "But we should exercise caution with our curiosity… yes, indeed…"

He was hopeful that he would remember that from now on.

He looked back down at the Pensieve and frowned as he prodded them—wanting to see a particular memory of a former student whose curiosity often got her into trouble as well. And suddenly the ghostly form of Bertha Jorkins appeared when she was in her sixth year…

"He put a hex on me, Professor Dumbledore, and I was only teasing him, sir, I only said I'd seen him kissing Florence behind the greenhouses last Thursday…" the memory of Bertha said, her voice echoing around them.

"But why Bertha," he asked sadly. That inquisitive nature of hers often got her into big trouble—what on earth could it have gotten her into this time? Though he had a bad feeling in his heart that it had probably been her final act… "Why did you have to follow him in the first place?" though he wasn't just asking about some forgotten memory…

"Bertha?" Harry whispered, staring at the figure. "Is that - was that Bertha Jorkins?"

"Yes," he sighed as he began, prodding the thoughts until the moment disappeared. While he knew that it was probably too late for him to have helped Bertha, he hoped that Harry would take that warning to heart and wouldn't make the same mistakes that she had once made. "That was Bertha as I remember her at school."

He sighed again, feeling older than he could remember… he could feel the effects of over a century in his bones and his memories mixing together. He shook his head and brought himself back to the matter at hand. "So, Harry," he said quietly, "Before you got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something."

"Yes," said Harry also remembering that there was a reason he came here, and looking up at him. "Professor - I was in Divination just now, and - er - I fell asleep."

He hesitated here, as if wondering if he was about to be told off. Personally, Albus didn't blame him. He had heard from his portraits that this happened to dear Sybill at least several times a year. If she'd only learn to put her fire out once in awhile and not to use so much perfume, maybe more people would be able to pay attention. "Quite understandable. Continue."

"Well," Harry said uncomfortably, as if trying to find the right words to explain what happened. "I had a dream." He said that last part as if it had been the only way to describe it. "A dream about Lord Voldemort. He was torturing Wormtail… you know who Wormtail-"

"I do know," he said before he even finished the question, now listening very carefully. "Please continue."

He took a deep breath and went on without pausing, "Voldemort got a letter from an owl. He said something like, Wormtail's blunder had been repaired. He said someone was dead. Then he said, Wormtail wouldn't be fed to the snake - there was a snake beside his chair. He said - he said he'd be feeding me to it, instead. Then he did the Cruciatus Curse on Wormtail - and my scar hurt. It woke me up, it hurt so badly."

Albus just looked at him.

"Er - that's all," he finished awkwardly.

He looked at Harry long and hard, briefly looking into his mind to see the dream for himself. It was as he said, and if his scar suddenly started hurting he was willing to bet that it hadn't had been just a dream. It had been a vision—there was no doubt in his mind.

So, Voldemort had someone killed? And at once, Barty Crouch entered his mind… he bit his lower lip. It couldn't have been anyone else. And he was planning to feed Harry to a snake? He couldn't see how that was possible. There was no way he could've gotten to Harry anyway. Not that he'd ever get the chance if he had a say about it… him or any other student.

"I see," he said and asked him, "I see. Now, has your scar hurt at any other time this year, except the time it woke you up over the summer?"

"No, I –" but then he realized what he said and asked astonished, "How did you know it woke me up over the summer?"

"You are not Sirius's only correspondent," he answered with a slight nod of the head. "I have also been in contact with him ever since he left Hogwarts last year. It was I who suggested the mountainside cave as the safest place for him to stay."

He got up and began to pace behind his desk trying to think of any possibility that Voldemort would be able to get to anyone here at Hogwarts. Every now and then, he would put any possible theories into the Pensieve to examine later.

"Professor?" Harry's voice interrupted him, reminding him that he was still there; he had a tenacity to get lost in his own thoughts from time to time. He stopped and looked back up.

"My apologies," he said quietly and returned to his seat.

"D'you - d'you know why my scar's hurting me?" Harry asked hesitantly.

He looked at him, wondering what on earth he could possibly tell him. He had long since come up with a theory to why that would be—but the idea was just so horrible that he couldn't stand thinking about it. But if what he suspected was true, then the answer was because there was a part of Voldemort in him.

Harry continued to look at him expectantly. What could he say? He took a deep breath and answered carefully, "I have a theory, no more than that… It is my belief that your scar hurts both when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong surge of hatred."

"But…" Harry asked, a hint of fear in his tone mixed with confusion. "_Why_?"

"Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed," he answered simply. He felt terrible for what he suspected might be true, but he couldn't bring himself to ever tell him. "That is no ordinary scar."

Harry stared at him before he asked cautiously, "So you think… that dream… did it really happen?"

"It is… possible," he said simply, though he knew full well that it was more than possible. "I would say - probable." And though he feared the answer, he asked, "Harry - did you see Voldemort?"

"No," he said at once. "Just the back of his chair. But - there wouldn't have been anything to see, would there? I mean, he hasn't got a body, has he?" he stopped for a moment before he asked slowly, "But… but then how could he have held the wand?"

"How indeed?" he muttered to himself. Was it possible that Tom had returned to a somewhat, physical form? But even if he had, he was still far too weak to be able to do much. "How indeed…"

Neither of them spoke for some time, and even if Harry had said a word, he doubted that he could've heard him as he gazed across the room continuing to add memories to the Pensieve.

"Professor," Harry said at last, breaking his concentration, "do you think he's getting stronger?"

"Voldemort?" he asked, finally looking back at him. Trying to see what he could tell him. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew the answer was yes. "Once again Harry, I can only give you my suspicions."

He sighed again, the sleepless nights were catching up to him once more and a splitting headache was starting to take form. "The years of Voldemort's ascent to power were marked with disappearances," he said to him softly, "Bertha Jorkins has vanished without a trace in the place where Voldemort was certainly known to be last. Mr. Crouch too has disappeared… within these very grounds. And there was a third disappearance, one which the Ministry, I regret to say, do not consider of any importance, for it concerns a Muggle." He fought the urge to roll his eyes at that. Just because Frank had been a Muggle, they didn't think that he was worth taking any notice. "His name was Frank Bryce, he lived in the village where Voldemort's father grew up, and he has not been seen since last August. You see, I read the Muggle newspapers, unlike most of my Ministry friends."

He gave him a serious look; glad to see that he was listening to every word he said. It's good to know that there was someone here who agreed with him. "These disappearances seem to me to be linked. The Ministry disagrees - as you may have heard, while waiting outside my office."

Harry turned slightly red at the reminder as he nodded. To be honest, Albus wasn't a hundred percent sure why he was telling him all this. But he supposed that it was probably necessary that he understood these things should Voldemort return to power.

Silence fell between them again, broken only but the rustle of his robes as he continued to put more thoughts into his Pensieve, or the soft clatter of Fawkes's claws on his perch.

"Professor?" Harry suddenly spoke up.

"Yes, Harry?" he asked.

"Er… could I ask you about… that court thing I was in… in the Pensieve?" he asked almost as if he was afraid to know the answer.

"You could," he sighed heavily. "I attended it many times, but some trials come back to me more clearly than others… particularly now…"

"You know - you know the trial you found me in?" he asked, "The one with Crouch's son? Well… were they talking about Neville's parents?"

He looked at him in surprise. "Has Neville never told you why he has been brought up by his grandmother?" he asked and Harry shook his head.

For a moment, he wondered if he shouldn't answer. If Neville didn't want to tell anyone… it wasn't really his place to tell him. But maybe… he tilted his head slightly as he surveyed him. He knew that if there was anyone who could understand… "Yes, they were talking about Neville's parents," he answered truthfully. "His father, Frank, was an Auror just like Professor Moody. He and his wife were tortured for information about Voldemort's whereabouts after he lost his powers, as you heard."

He went pale. "So they're dead?" he asked quietly.

"No," he said, anger boiling inside him at the thought of what had happened to two of some of his favorite students… the suffering that had been done so unnecessarily and the lives ruined. "They are insane. They are both in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I believe Neville visits them, with his grandmother, during the holidays. They do not recognize him."

Harry sat there, staring at him in horror. He sighed again and went on, "The Longbottoms were very popular. The attacks on them came after Voldemort's fall from power, just when everyone thought they were safe."

He shook his head in disgust at that thought. "Those attacks caused a wave of fury such as I have never known. The Ministry was under great pressure to catch those who had done it. Unfortunately, the Longbottoms' evidence was - given their condition - none too reliable."

He felt sick to his stomach just thinking about what the two of them had been reduced to. To how their families had suffered… especially Neville…

"Then Mr. Crouch's son might not have been involved?" he stated slowly. Albus didn't know what to say to that. He simply shrugged and answered, "As to that, I have no idea."

He had often wondered that himself. He knew that Barty and his son didn't always see eye-to-eye… but could he have been so desperate for attention that he sought it from the wrong person? Harry hesitated for another moment before he asked, "Er, Mr. Bagman…"

"… has never been accused of any Dark activity since," he answered, guessing what Harry had been about to ask.

"Right," said Harry hastily, as he looked down at the Pensieve. "And… er…"

He glanced down, the form of Severus's face appeared and he knew what he was about to ask. He looked up to answer, "No more has Professor Snape," he said.

He looked into those green eyes before the boy suddenly blurted out, "What made you think he'd really stopped supporting Voldemort, Professor?"

Not for the first time he had wanted to come out and tell him the truth about Severus. He knew that if he had learned the reason behind Severus actions it would make trusting him so much easier… but…

'_But never – never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear…especially Potter's son…I want your word…'_ Severus's voice came back to him.

He then said firmly, "That, Harry, is a matter between Professor Snape and myself."

Not long after that, Harry got up to leave.

"Harry," he called to him as soon as he had reached the door. When he looked back, he said seriously, "Please do not speak about Neville's parents to anybody else. He has the right to let people know, when he is ready."

"Yes, Professor," said Harry, and Albus just knew that he would keep his word.

"And-" he added as he leaned over the Pensieve, fears and uncertainties filling his mind. He wasn't sure where this uneasy feeling suddenly came from or why… it was as if he could somehow sense that something terrible was about to happen. He stared at the boy for a moment as if expecting someone else to stand there before he said, "Good luck with the third task."

Harry gave him a rather shaky smile before he left. Once the door had closed, he sat back down, his mind racing again.

"I can't believe that you let him go without so much as taking points!" Phineas called down at him furiously. "Had it have been me, I'd taken fifty points and given him a week of detentions!"

"Well, you aren't me, Phineas," he sighed as he stood back up and put the Pensieve away. This time locking the cabinet.

"Normally, you're so careful with your Pensieve, Dumbledore," Everard asked him as he passed. "I can't believe that you would leave it unlocked."

Not in the mood to talk at the moment, he made a feeble excuse that he was going to take a quick nap before dinner and left the room. He walked into the back to where he had been keeping a particular book. He reached up and pulled out the large volume bound in faded black leather._** Secrets of the Darkest Art**_

He flipped through the pages until he found the section that he must've read a dozen times. Though he knew it by heart, he couldn't help himself:

_**Tamper with the deepest mysteries—the source of life, the essence of self—only if prepared for consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind. For the Horcrux is a very powerful object in which a Dark wizard or witch has hidden a fragment of his or her soul for the purpose of attaining immortality. Creating but a single Horcrux allows one to gain the ability to resurrect themselves as a sort of "phantom form" if their body is destroyed. It is possible to create more than one Horcrux and the more that one creates; the closer one is to achieving immortality. Creating multiple Horcruxes is suggested to be costly to the creator, by both diminishing their humanity and even physically disfiguring them. It is possible to put the wizard's or witch's soul back together, but it is excruciatingly painful. (See page 434 for more details how).**_

In his insane quest to become Voldemort, Tom had done everything to achieve immortality, from incantations, and potions, to unicorn blood and the murder of countless innocent people who stood in his way.

And although he hated the idea of having to kill anyone, he knew that this was the only way… Albus was old and wasn't afraid of to die when his time finally came… but he was tired of watching friends and students die or be led down the wrong path following a madman. He was tired of hearing about the Muggles being killed for no other reason than the fact that they were Muggles… hated seeing all the children losing their parents and being forced to see the horrors of war… hated having to see the fighting and living in constant fear…

His hands tightened on the book as he continued to read it. He bit his lower lip… he knew he was being foolish… Because of his continued delusions he had put yet another young soul in danger. Continuously, he allowed a mere child to fight through life-threatening situations that would make a fully trained Auror fall apart and run. The same child that he allowed to risk his life over and over was the only chance the wizarding world had should the worst arrive.

Albus knew that he had allowed that pain to happen… and even now, he continued to let that pain happen. He knew he was destroying another life just as he had his sister's…

At the thought of Ariana's face, it had caused a wave of emotions to crash into him once again. He gripped the book so tightly that if he wasn't careful, he might've ripped it in half. His eyes then fell onto a small part that he had also read countless time over the last few years…

_**Horcruxes can also be destroyed. If a person's body was destroyed, his or her soul would remain intact, whereas with a Horcrux it is the opposite, as the piece of soul depends upon its container to survive. Destruction of a Horcrux is difficult, but not impossible, and requires that the receptacle to be damaged completely beyond physical or magical repair the soul fragment perishes.**_

A burning anger that he couldn't remember feeling before erupted inside him, and before he realized what he was doing, he slammed the book shut and flung it across the room in suppressed pain… he watched as it hit the wall and slid down to land on the floor almost innocently.

Breathing hard as if he had been running he just looked at it; the book laid open on the page he had just read, and his fists tightened so that his nails dug deep into his palms. If what he suspected was true… then at least one more innocent soul will have to be offered to put an end to Voldemort…

And he hated himself to the very core for knowing this…

*Weeks later*

Over the next month, he had been keeping an eye on all the champions progress, ensuring that they would be ready in time for the Third Task. He wasn't willing to take any chances now that they were so close to the end. Cedric spent most of his time in the library looking up any spells that he thought might be useful… Viktor Krum had been spotted near the edge of the forest testing out spells while using the trees as targets… Fleur Delacour had also spent a great deal of time inside the carriage, obviously practicing as well… as for Harry, he and his friends spent all their free time looking up spells in the library before testing them out in a deserted classroom later on.

The mood in the castle as they entered June became excited and tense as the Third Task drew near. While everyone was looking forward to seeing the task, he was looking forward to seeing the end of the tournament and this dreadful year. He was so tired of wasting endless nights of sleep worrying.

He honestly didn't care who won so long as all the champions made it through alive. But just the other day, he was surprised to hear that Minerva had given the trio permission to use her classroom at lunchtimes.

"I hear the three of them all the time," she grumbled to him one lunchtime when she had arrived late. "They make so much noise! I'm sick of walking up there, expecting to see Peeves causing problems only to see them practicing. This time, I found Weasley out cold on the floor. I gave them permission to use my classroom when no one is there so that I don't have to worry."

"It will all be over soon," he assured her. "We just have to make it through one more task."

"Oh, I can't wait," she groaned in exhaustion. "Albus, please," she said as she helped herself to some Sheppard's pie, "The next time you want to hold a tournament, remind me to talk you out of it."

"I wouldn't ask for anything else," he told her wearily.

In what seemed like no time at all, the morning of June twenty-fourth had arrived and he was in his office making some final preparations and safety measures before he headed down to the pitch to enforce them. He knew that Igor had been making a lot of complaints about them, but he honestly couldn't care less about what he thought of anymore.

Just as he was getting ready to head down, the usual owl with the Daily Prophet flew through the open window and landed on his desk. Planning to read it on his way down, he took the paper and paid the owl as he flipped it open… and then he saw the headlines…

What he saw made him drop the paper.

_'__HARRY POTTER DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS'_

"You have got to be kidding me," he groaned as he bent down to quickly read what it said. To his horror he read about how she found out about his scar hurting, and how he could speak Parseltongue.

"'_Using Dark Arts to win the tournament'_?" he repeated to himself in suppressed anger as he flung the paper into the bin. "My god… how could they have someone like her in charge of a paper? Only about five percent of that article is true! And even then…" he trailed off.

But how on earth did she discover this? She was forbidden to come onto the grounds so how could she have found out? Harry had told him that he had collapsed in Divination which was at the top of North Tower… there's no way that she could've been there… and as for Malfoy… he would have to have a word with that boy.

"I guess I don't need to ask if you've seen the paper this morning," said Dexter's voice.

He sighed and looked back up at him. "No," he said. "Gone off him a bit this time hasn't she?"

"How could anyone allow her to print something that is completely untrue is my question," Dilys demanded in a sour voice. "At least get some proof before getting that thing printed."

"I couldn't agree with you more," he sighed. "But it's too late now. The whole wizarding world will know by now…"

"This isn't going to make things easy for us will it?" Everard asked, though judging from his tone, he knew the answer.

"No," he groaned, running his hand through his beard. "I have to head down to the pitch to make sure that everything is set up for the maze. Is there anything I need to know?"

"Only that I saw Granger running up to the library and that the champion's families are here," he answered. "It was certainly nice of the Weasleys to turn up to support Potter."

A very brief smile appeared around his face for that moment. "Yes, they see him as part of the family, so they would want to be there."

He walked down to the Quidditch field, his headache now coming back… his only comfort was that by tonight, this whole mess would be over. Just one more day…

*Later that day*

He had just finishing up helping to add all the enchantments to the maze when Cornelius arrived. He had insisted on coming here to be the fifth judge tonight.

"Of course," Cornelius said as he walked beside him up to the castle for dinner. "I had other duties to full-fill, for being the Minister is a demanding post, but I would've have missed this for the world.

"Hmm," was Albus's only answer. Perhaps it had just been the stress that he had been under plus another splitting headache but he couldn't stop thinking how Mr. Always-in-the-Spotlight Fudge is conveniently subbing for Crouch in the most important task of the highly popular tournament.

He didn't dare say any of this though as he politely nodded to him and they took their seats at the staff table for their meals. He let him talk all he wanted to as he paid more attention to his food. But when dusk began to fall, and he had finished he stood up and the whole hall feel silent almost at once.

Almost having to force a smile, he called out, "Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

He watched as the four champions get up, their friends and families wishing them luck, before they all followed Bagman out the door and to the pitch. He watched as the rest of the students also got up and excitedly headed to the pitch, wondering what was going to happen, before he followed suit.

He calmly, followed them all to the Quidditch field—once in awhile, listening to the teachers tell off their students. He glanced at the twenty-foot-high hedge, having worked hard to place the silence and darkening charms around the maze so that the champions wouldn't be able to hear or see anything that's going on the outside. His eyes found the entrance… the dark and winding path before him seemed to stretch onwards into an infinite void…

He couldn't help but get a strong sense of foreboding from this. But he chose to ignore this as he watched the excited students beginning to fill the seats. It took about ten minutes for everyone to be seated and for his staff to come forward to the champions and quickly explaining their job of patrolling the outside of the maze.

He watched them all nod in understand before Ludo gave them all a little push towards the entrance and the teachers all left.

Ludo then pointed his wand at his throat, and soon he was calling out to the rest of the school:"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!"

As expected, the Hogwarts student's applause seemed to shake the very grounds. "In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" the Durmstrang students screamed out loudly, all them punching the air for Viktor. "And in third place – Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!" And he couldn't help but notice that a great deal of boys, as well as the Beauxbatons students, called out loudly when Fleur's name had been mentioned.

"So… on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" Ludo called out. "Three - two - one -"

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and he watched Harry and Cedric hurried forward into the maze… little did he know… it would be the last time that he would see one of them alive…

*Later*

He and the other judges sat there, almost having to force themselves to make small conversation—when it happened. Almost half an hour in, there had been a shot of red sparks erupted over one part of the maze.

Ludo had spotted them and quickly called out, "That ladies and gentlemen is the signal that one of our champions is in trouble! Each of the champions had been warned before they entered the maze that should they need help, merely to send up those sparks! However, if they do so, then they will immediately be disqualified for the tournament. Now let's see who it is…?"

Albus half rose from his seat as he waited—finally Alastor appeared from one of the corners of the hedges, half dragging Fleur Delacour with him.

Madame Maxime got up from her seat and went over at once to see what had happened. He also got up and walked over to see how she was when Ludo called out, "It seems that Fleur Delacour had been the one who sent the sparks up high, and has now been disqualified from the tournament! But let's give up a round of applause for her for a valiant effort!"

As applause began around them, Albus had leaned over to see her half-opened eyelids, "It looks like she's been stunned…" Madame Pomfrey said at once, when she had been called over from the medical tent. "It's not serious," she assured Madame Maxime, "There shouldn't be any lasting harm done."

She conjured up a stretcher and floated her off in the direction of the medical tent so that she could be given some time to recover in peace.

Albus had then turned his attention back to the maze, hoping that one of the boys find the center of the maze soon and grab the cup so that this would finally end.

It had been about twenty minutes after that when Viktor Krum had been pulled out… once again, Madame Pomfrey had reported that he had been stunned and took him as well as Ludo turned to address the results to the crowd.

But Albus had grown uneasy. There was something very wrong here… Albus knew better than to doubt Madame Pomfrey's diagnosis, but the news had left definitely him rattled. Surely nothing in the maze had caused them both to be stunned like this? He knew every obstacle, enchantment, and trap that had been placed, and he couldn't remember ever placing something in there that would stun them both identically like this.

Karkaroff was more furious that Durmstrang had been put out of the running than his student being injuried, and would've probably have told Viktor off himself had he been conscious…

Albus ignored him once again, his mind still working furiously. First Fleur… now Viktor? Both of them were pretty much unscathed… just stunned… so how could they have sent up sparks?

Could it be that Harry or Cedric…? No, he couldn't believe that either boy would be trying to sabotage them. As Ludo announced that Viktor was unable to finish the task, everyone grew very tense—knowing that now it would only be a matter of time until the Hogwarts champion found the cup. The question was who?

Once again, Albus didn't care who won, so long as they both made it back unhurt. And though he filled his conscience with words of reassurances, he felt none of them. He just could not shake the feeling that something had gone very, very wrong. He could not stop those foreboding feelings in the pit of his stomach, some warning… that something terrible was about to happen?

Hours had passed. And with each second, he felt the need to pull out his hair—his fingers drumming anxiously on the table in front of him. What was taken so long? One of them would've surly found the cup by now? The stands were also growing impatient as well—wondering why nothing was happening. He sat there with the judges, watching intently.

Minerva glanced up at him half anxious/half irritated every time she circled the maze, the stars on her hat glowing slightly in the growing darkness; and he could see how worried she was in the way she walked… almost pacing the maze. Albus knew they both thinking the same thing… how, despite everyone's brave face, the teachers all knew that someone was behind all this. Ever since Harry's name had come out of the Goblet, someone had been plotting something.

He tried to find some means to keep his mind occupied and started looking around him—trying to find some kind of distraction… that was when his eyes fell on Alastor who was still limping around outer hedges.

Normally, he wouldn't pay too much attention… at least until he saw the excited look on his old friend's face. It was almost as if he looked happy that something seemed to be wrong. That wasn't like him… normally, he would've been the first one to sense that something dangerous was near. He watched Alastor limping around the corner, until he was watching the back of his head and he disappeared.

Slightly uneasy, he turned back to the hedge and stared at it—as if trying to bring both boys back through sear force of will. What happened to them? Was it possible that either of them lying there injured and defenseless? Unable to send up sparks? Horrible thoughts continued to play themselves in his head until at long last, what felt like several years, there was something happening at the entrance of the maze.

There was a faint glowing blue light shining there for a moment, the drowsy crowd had also noticed it as well and they were pointing it out to their friends and talking excitedly—obviously thinking that this had been part of the task. And at once, Harry Potter appeared out of thin air with Cedric Diggory and the Triwizard Cup. Both of them landed face-first into the ground and laid there unmoving.

For a moment, it was as if everything else around him was falling away around him. This was not what was supposed to happen; the champion who touched the Cup was supposed to trigger the end of the maze enchantments, not be whisked back here in front of them…

That was when there were shouts going on around him, pointing to the two boys who were lying there, still as stone. He ran, almost flew to get there before anyone else did—by the time he got there, neither boy had moved a muscle…

'_No,'_ he silently begged as terror tore at his heart. _'No…_ _they can't be… don't be dead… please don't be dead…'_

He crouched down besides them and seized Harry, perhaps a little too roughly in his desperation, and turned him over, "Harry! _Harry_!"

For a moment, nothing happened… he just laid there as limp as a rag doll, his face was as white as a sheet, his glasses askew, and blood dripping from an injured leg… but then his green eyes slowly cracked open and were squinting at him, as if having trouble making him out

A breath that he hadn't even realized that he was holding was released as he felt relief. He's alive… but what on earth had happened? It didn't look as though Harry could focus on him… and he was gasping for breath as though he was having trouble breathing…

Albus turned his head, searching for Madam Pomfrey over the heads of the pressing crowd to come over, but then Harry did something that stopped him dead in his tracks. He had let go of the cup, and instead clutched at his wrist like it was his lifeline.

As if he hadn't even noticed the crowd pressing in around them, as though desperate to tell him something… what he said felt as if his whole world came tumbling down around him… he croaked out, "He's back… he's back. Voldemort."

Albus stared at him… to horrified to do anything else as those words echoed inside his head. _"He's back… He's back. Voldemort."_

No… this can't be… he didn't… he couldn't have… no… not again…

He felt as if he had been punched in the chest. Harry started gasping as if he'd run miles, he was having trouble just trying to hold his head up—as if every word was hurting him. He could see the truth before him… Harry wasn't in shock because of the maze's obstacles. He wasn't hurt and winded just because of some creature that had been hiding…

And he wasn't here because the cup would've… wait…

He turned and stared at the slightly glowing Triwizard cup… the cup! He recognized that blue light anywhere… it was a Portkey… but that could only mean… his eyes widened as realization him like an avalanche… they had been betrayed…

Someone here at Hogwarts had turned the cup into a Portkey and sent him to Voldemort…

"What's going on? What's happened?" cried a familiar voice behind him. Albus was too busy trying to grasp what was happening here to pay attention to Cornelius, who had come out of the crowd, who was looking around them in amazement. Harry had continued to hold onto his wrist desperately, as if afraid to let go, until his adrenaline seemed to have faded right before his eyes, and his hand slipped and hit the ground with a dull thud.

As he tried to help Harry sit up, Fudge said something that made him feel as if his insides had frozen… something that he had grown accustomed to the Dementors… as the Minister then shouted out so that no one could miss it—"My God- Diggory! Dumbledore- he's dead!"

**(And so the tournament is over, but now the real work begins. Harry just made it back to him alive, but he still has no idea how it happened. The next chapter should hopefully be the end of the Goblet of Fire, and then we'll be moving on to the Order of the Phoenix. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter… and to those of you who are kind enough to leave reviews thanks for them. They have been a great help.)**


	44. Tournaments End

**Chapter 43: Tournaments End**

Those few words caused a wave of fear and grief to sweep over them all as people were now trying to push their way through to see what was going on. They then started to shout out to everyone within range so that all too soon, the whole school was aware of the tragic news.

"He's dead!"

"He's _dead_!"

"Cedric Diggory! _Dead_!"

Sobbing sounded in a din, and voices, passing on the news… everywhere… so that no one could miss it. Albus looked around, trying to figure out what to say or do… just when he finally noticed what Fudge was doing.

Cornelius was now trying to force Harry to let go of Cedric. "Harry, let go of him," Fudge told Harry, as he began attempting to pry the child's fingers from Cedric's limp form. However, Harry wouldn't let go, instead re-doubling his grip to prevent him from. Albus leant down closer, so that his bearded face was only inches from Harry's own.

"Harry," he said softly, his own hand on Cedric's wrist, "you can't help him now. It's over. Let go."

The gentle order seemed to stimulate Harry slightly; he looked at him through glassy eyes and pleaded, "He wanted me to bring him back. He wanted me to bring him back to his parents…" But even as he spoke, his grip was slowly loosening.

Albus then began coaxing him on softly, letting him know that he understood. "That's right, Harry… just let go now…"

Whether Harry heard him and did it, or he was too exhausted to hold on any longer, Harry finally let go. Once he did, Albus bent down, and held onto him like one would to a small child, and carefully raised from the ground. Gently, he eased him back onto his feet. But Harry swayed at once—as if sea-sick and didn't seem to be able to recognize anything around him.

People jostled around them, fighting to get in closer, demanding, "What happened?" yelled a girl.

"What's wrong with him?" shouted out a young Gryffindor boy.

"_Diggory's dead_!" screamed several people at once. Harry wasn't faring well; he swayed, unable to support his own weight. A moment later, he'd sunk back to the ground like he was going to faint.

"He'll need to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge was saying loudly. "He's ill, he's injured-"

Albus agreed, fully aware that Harry needed medical attention and slightly desperate for it as well. He looked around for Madame Pomfrey, and was in half a mind to tell someone to go and get her—he was afraid to leave Harry right now.

That was until Cornelius stepped forward and said in a low whisper, "Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here, they're in the stands…"

Albus had forgotten about that and felt as if his heart had sunk deep into his stomach. They needed to be warned… he didn't want them to see their son like this. To his relief, Alastor was suddenly there at his side. He limped forward, the rest of the crowd giving him wide berth. "I'll take Harry, Dumbledore," he said at once. "I'll take him-"

Had the situation hadn't been so serious, he would've knew that something was wrong right away. But at the moment, he was looking around, trying to spot the Diggorys, "No, I would prefer-"

But then Fudge interrupted, pointing to their left, "Dumbledore, Amos Diggory's running... he's coming over… Don't you think you should tell him- before he sees-?" Cornelius started practically dragging him away by the arm, white all over and obviously unsure how to the handle the situation delicately. And Albus, knowing it was his duty as the Headmaster to inform Amos before he saw his dead son.

He looked back to see that Alastor was now supporting Harry and said firmly to the boy, "Harry, stay here-"

But even as the crowd parted so that he could get to Amos, he couldn't help but feel uneasy as he left Harry there.

He felt that he would rather have done anything but approach Amos as he fought his way over to him. He was chalk white by the time that they had reached him—as soon as he saw him, then he grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him slightly—a terrified look was in his eyes were bulging slightly as he panted, "D-Dumbledore, t-they're saying Ced… my son… my only son… that he's… tell me it's not true! TELL ME MY SON IS… he's not… is he…?" Amos almost choked out as he tried to look over his shoulder, as if he expected Cedric to be there telling him that he was alright…

Albus sighed, knowing that he had to do it.

"I'm so sorry, Amos," Albus intoned gravely, gripping him by the shoulders tightly. "But Cedric truly is…"

But he didn't get to finish for Amos swayed alarmingly for a second, features slack in shock- then vicious sobs started racking his figure. "Where is he?" he demanded harshly, his face now wet with tears. "Where is my son?"

At that second, his wife came over, now calling out Cedric's name, trying to find him. Albus knew that they would never believe it until they saw Cedric for themselves.

"I'm so sorry," Albus repeated, and pulled the couple over to where their son now laid. And so he gently led Amos through the crowd of whimpering and whispering spectators and ignoring whatever rubbish that Fudge was trying to say as he trailed behind them.

Albus stopped dead, at the same time as the Diggorys—however it was for two different reasons. Cedric's parents let out cries of despair and grief before they collapsed next to their son's body, currently being protected by an equally mournful Professor Sprout who was now shouting for the crowd to leave already.

But this did little to ease the fear in his pounding heart however. He looked around him, but Harry was nowhere to be seen, he clenched his fists in anxiety. He looked down at Mr. and Mrs. Diggory as they fell next to their son and pulled him back into their arms as they cried.

He then turned to Pomona and whispered to her, "Pomona, please take the Diggorys up to the school. And remove—Cedric," the boy's name caught in his throat. "Please… Madam Pomfrey will help you. And send the students up as well. They all deserve a respectful distant right now. I will join you shortly, but I need to tend to a few serious matters first."

She nodded and wiped her eyes furiously. He then turned and pushed his way through the terrified throng before anyone else could say anything.

His breathing grew hard and fast… he told Harry to stay… but he was injured—exhausted… he couldn't have left on his own.

Which could only mean that someone took him. Another burst of panic. Albus cursed himself for letting the boy out of his sight after all this. At that moment, he almost ran into Severus. He stopped just before they collided.

"Severus!" he said in relief.

Severus looked up, almost startled. He had been lurking in a shadowy part of the castle, matched with his black robes—it was easy to miss him. "Headmaster?"

While Severus seemed calm enough, Albus knew him well enough to know that there was something wrong. Through the calm mask he always wore, he was able to see the unnerved look in his dark eyes…

It looked like… fear…

He remembered what Harry said not ten minutes ago and asked quickly, "Severus? I need you to tell me. Did _he_ summon you?"

Albus didn't have to ask twice; Severus looked shocked, but his arm went automatically to grip the spot where the Dark Mark was burned into him. They both knew it was true…

"Yes," he spoke in barely more than a whisper. "Not that long ago… about half an hour ago, perhaps?" He then pulled back his sleeve for them both to see…

Though not the black that he knew it to be when Voldemort summoned them… it was clear that it had been burned dark not long ago.

"Just what happened?" Severus demanded as he rolled down his sleeve to hide it. "The Dark Lord summons us tonight… and I just heard that Potter and Diggory…"

"I am afraid that Cedric Diggory is dead," Albus said mournfully. "Harry is still alive… I don't know the whole story, but he escaped Voldemort's clutches from what I understand. Harry brought Cedric's body back. The cup… the Triwizard Cup had been turned into a portkey to send the person who touched it to Voldemort. He's back, Severus. Lord Voldemort is back."

Severus turned very white, "Who?" he demanded.

Albus bit his lower lip and shook his head helplessly. "I'm afraid I don't know. I honestly don't… but more importantly, Harry has now disappeared."

Severus opened his mouth and Albus when on, "The boy was injured and exhausted. He couldn't have left on his own… I'm afraid that there is someone working for Voldemort here in the castle Severus. And the one who put Harry's name into the Goblet of Fire is the same one who took Harry… I'm sure of it."

"But who?" Severus repeated impatiently. "Who could do this?"

Albus shook his head… but stopped. A memory from only minutes earlier floated faintly through his mind…

_"I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him-"_

_Alastor…_

Alastor Moody _never_ referred to people by anything other than their surname. For as long as he knew Alastor Moody, he only ever called anyone by their surname… keeps him from getting to familiar with people. But he had been so focused on the Diggorys that he didn't realize it… he then realized with a stab of horror that Alastor had been acting different this… such as him drinking from flask… he only ever drank from it, but he had been drinking from it much more frequently than normal…

In fact, if Albus were to hazard a guess, he tended to swig its contents about every hour. His eyes widened in horror. Could it be…?

"Severus…" Albus began through numb lips. "After dinner last night… do you remember who asked to place the Cup in the maze?"

"Of course. It was Moody," Severus said at once.

That only confirmed his fears. "And…" he said hurriedly, "You are certain that no one else had touched it before he took it into the maze?"

"No, I…" he suddenly stopped dead at what Albus was saying. "You don't mean…?"

"And Alastor offered to take Harry…" Albus whispered softly, panic gripping his heart. He looked to Severus and said, "We need to find Harry. Now. I believe that he may be in grave danger."

"But…" Severus began, but before he could finish, Minerva came tearing across the field to where they were standing, her expression pale and shaky. But Albus turned to her at once and gestured for her to follow.

"Minerva," he said quickly, "Please tell me, did you see where Harry went? Did anyone take him?"

She paused, uncharacteristically fretful. "I- I saw… I saw Moody took him back to the school. But Albus—what's going on here? I thought that we had everything covered—that we didn't overlook any safety measure and…" but she suddenly noticed their pale expressions.

He and Severus shared startled looks and they both turned to the castle. "Minerva, we need to hurry!" Albus called out at once. "We need to go to Professor Moody's office. Come with me." He then pulled out his wand and strode quickly across the field to the castle. Minerva and Severus were almost running behind to keep up with him.

"Dumbledore, what's happening here?" Minerva demanded again gasping for breath.

"Harry is in grave danger," Albus explained, fear still rising up. Every second they wasted was driving him crazy. "I believe Moody may be using this chance to try and kill Harry while everyone else's attention is drawn to Cedric."

At these words, his pace became swifter and longer, leaving both of them to sprint to keep up. They wasted no time in rushing through the Entrance Hall and up the stairs, and Minerva then cried out, "Kill? Moody? Dumbledore, what are you talking about?! You know Alastor as well as the rest of us do! He has been our friend for years and you think…?"

"Rather," Albus said, anger boiling in with the fear as they ran through a tapestry and down a shortcut to the third floor, "An _imposter_ will try to kill Harry."

"What are you…?" Minerva began but Severus answered, "It seems that the one who was giving us all the trouble this year has been posing as none other than Moody."

Minerva nearly tripped at those words but caught herself in time.

"If that's true," Albus said, "And I'm willing to bet that it is, then if Harry's alone with him…" he didn't dare say anymore, unable to think of it.

But just as Minerva tried to answer, they could hear yelling from ahead just as they reached the third floor.

"You're mad…" it was undoubtedly Harry's voice, and there was a trace of terror gracing his tone as he repeated louder, "you're mad!"

At those terrified words, Albus sprinted ahead, down the corridor with the other two teachers right behind him.

"Mad, am I?" he heard Moody's voice shouting, indeed sounding quite made as he bellowed out, "We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side!"

Albus could see the door to the office and raised his wand, "He is back, Harry Potter, you did not conquer him- and now- I conquer you!"

"_Stupefy_!" he roared, his anger going into that spell as the blinding flash of red erupted from the end of his and—then, with a great splintering and crashing, the office door exploded, blasting inward…

All three of them were standing in the doorway staring at the sight in front of them; Albus's arm still outstretched. The door was in splinters at their feet, slumped against the wall—the imposter was lying face-down—out cold.

And there, slumped in a chair was Harry, staring at them, frozen in shock—looking small and scared. Albus's hand shaking and he had to tighten the grip of his wand to keep his hand steady. Albus was breathing hard as his anger rose, staring with hatred at the man at their feet. But the only thought that was going through his mind at the moment was, _'He's alive…'_

They all stepped into the room through the charred remains of the doorway; he walked over to the imposter and kicked him over onto his face. Fury coursed through him as he stared down at the unconscious pretender. Harry was still watching him… also shaking—but from fear—not anger.

Severus came up behind him, looking into the Foe-Glass; as for Minerva, she brushed past him and went straight to Harry.

"Come along, Potter," she whispered, mouth stretched tight in a thin line even as her lips trembled. Albus knew that she had been terrified… he knew that she would rather fight to the death before she let anyone hurt the students. "Come along… Hospital Wing…"

"No," he said sharply, glancing over Harry's condition. Apart from his leg, there were no major medical issues that needed immediate tending to. Minerva turned to him, her eyes scared, "Dumbledore, he ought to- look at him- he's been through enough tonight-"

If he had it his way, he would let Harry go with her, but he couldn't… he had to know what had happened here tonight. And Harry deserved to know the truth as well…

"He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand," he told her firmly, showing that he wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know who has put him through the ordeal he has suffered tonight, and why."

Harry looked up at him and cried out, still in a state of utter disbelief, "Moody," he mumbled, "How can it have been Moody?"

Albus shook his head as he looked at him and said very quietly, "This is not Alastor Moody," still furious with himself for not seeing it before now. "You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you, I knew- and I followed."

The Alastor he knew would've been the first one to ask the questions… he would've made sure that everyone was shooed away before he could examine the situation… he never would've taken Harry out of plain site like that…

Sighing, half sadly, half furious, he bent over and rummaged around in his pockets, pulling out the hip flask and the keys to Alastor's magical trunk. He knew that the real Alastor would still be alive—the imposter still needed him for his hair and to question him for him to play the part of Alastor Moody perfectly. It was his only chance.

He turned to Minerva, who was still hovering protectively over Harry, and Severus, now peering suspiciously at the flask. He then gave them instructions—to tell Severus to bring him the strongest Truth Potion he had, and the house-elf Winky. If he was right in guessing who the imposter truly was, then he needed her here to confirm it.

He then turned to Minerva and told her where she could find Sirius and take him up to his office. He knew that Sirius needed to know this as well. He would take Harry up for questioning after he was finished here.

Both Minerva and Severus left, leaving him and Harry alone with the Death Eater. Once they were gone, he went to the trunk and tried each key in all the holes. For maximum security, Alastor could hide pretty much anything—or even everyone—in there. More than once, he had been able to sneak people out of harm's way thanks to the seventh compartment.

He unlocked each key hole—and sure enough, once he opened the seventh and final lock did he find the real Alastor Moody, lying at the bottom of the pit. Either sleeping, or out cold… with both his wooden leg and magical eye missing—looking ill, starved, with his grizzly hair was sheered in great chunks.

Harry let out a cry of amazement as he looked over his shoulder to see down the trunk as well. Albus quickly clambered down into the trunk and lowered himself lightly next to Alastor.

He bent down and checked his breathing and pulse. He sighed in relief… he was alive. He gently lifted the eyelid of his normal eye to see the stunned and dazed look. "Stunned," he said softly. "Controlled by the Imperius Curse—very weak."

He gave him a long look—nothing that Alastor wouldn't recover from—though perhaps his pride… and his paranoia was bound to increase after such an unpleasant incident like this one. "Of course they would have needed to keep him alive." He looked up at Harry, who was staring down at the pair. "Harry, throw down the imposter's cloak—he's freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger." Harry obeyed without hesitation, and he draped it over Moody, tucking it closely around him for extra measure…

"I'm so sorry, Alastor," he whispered softly.

Grimacing, he pulled himself back out of the trunk so that he could take a look at the flask. As he thought—as soon as he unscrewed it and poured it out—it was the unmistakable glutinous Polyjuice Potion that hit the floor. Harry observed it trickle with a look of realization.

"Polyjuice Potion, Harry," he said and he looked up. "You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never _does _drink except from his hip flask, he's well known for it." He shook his head; that was a flaw with Alastor.

"The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the potion. You see his hair…" Albus pointed out all the missing chunks of hair, "The imposter has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have… on the hour… every hour… we shall see."

He pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, eyes fixed unblinkingly on unconscious Moody. Harry mirrored him, waiting as minutes passed the pair by in silence…

And then it happened.

Alastor's features slowly changed. The scars were disappearing and his mangled nose became whole and started to shrink. His long hair was withdrawing into the scalp and changing color. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place; next moment, the magical eyeball had popped out of the man's face as his real eye replaced it; it rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction—staring at everything around it. Alastor was replaced with a man with an unhealthy pallor, wrinkles of age round his closed eyes, freckles, and a mop of fair hair.

Barty Crouch Jr.

Just then, he heard hurrying footsteps behind him, out in the corridor. Severus was back with the house-elf Winky at his heels. Behind them was Minerva… both of them walked through the door until they saw who it was on the floor.

"Crouch!" Severus gasped in disbelief. "Barty Crouch!"

"Good heavens," Minerva cried out, a hand over her mouth as she stared down at him. A filthy face peered out from behind the two teachers. Her jaw dropped open in a mixture of horror and amazement when she saw Barty's son and she let out a shriek.

"Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?" she gasped before she flung herself across the room and onto his chest as she continued to cry, "You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!"

While he knew that this could emotionally scar her for life—but he needed someone to confirm it for him. After all for all intents and purposes he was meant to be dead, who better to offer confirmation than his house-elf, it would also show whether she knew about it, and how deeply Crouch Sr. was involved in it.

He stepped forward and assured her, "He is simply Stunned, Winky. Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?"

Severus reached into his pocket and pulled out the Veritaserum. He pulled the stopper out and bent over Barty to pull him up into a sitting position beneath the Foe-Glass, though he wasn't paying any attention to that at the moment. Winky was sitting beneath him, trembling from head to toe with her fingers over her face. He then forced his mouth open and poured three drops inside it. "Ennervate," he cast.

His opened his eyes—and he gazed at them all with a slack, daze—clearly not seeing any of them. He then knelt down in front of him and asked quietly, "Can you hear me?"

His eyelids flickered at his words and mumbled, "Yes."

This was it… "I would like you to tell us how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?" he asked.

Barty Crouch Jr. took a deep, shuddering breath, and then spoke mechanically, "My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."

Albus closed his eyes in realization. Now that made sense… a mother will go to any lengths for her child… and though all this madness had come from that action… he couldn't bring himself to resent her.

Winky on the other hand was shaking and gasped out, "Say no more. Master Barty, say no more, you is getting your father into trouble!"

So she knew… well, of course she would know…

But Barty went on and, "The dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors."

Albus sighed again as his eyes opened, of course… it was so simple but brilliant.

"My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me."

His eyelids flickered again and Albus asked, "And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?"

He continued with his story. "Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My father had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master… of returning to his service."

"How did your father subdue you?" he asked, not liking where this was going.

"I was under my father's control," he explained. "I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. She was my keeper and caretaker. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behavior."

Winky broke down sobbing, "Master Barty, Master Barty. You isn't ought to tell them, we is getting in trouble…"

Albus ignored her, "Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?" though he had a bad feeling that someone did. "Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf?"

"Yes," he answered him at once. "A witch in my father's office. Bertha Jorkins."

Albus closed his eyes for a brief moment again—now seeing where this was going.

"She came to the house with papers for my father's signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she'd found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently."

Albus shook his head. He knew that curiosity of hers would get her into serious trouble one day. He was so lost in thought for a moment that he hardly heard Winky sobbing next to him.

He then asked, "Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup."

"Winky talked my father into it," he told him. Albus could now see what had happened so clearly in his mind's eye as he talked. He could imagine little Winky pleading with Barty to let his only son have just a few hours of freedom outside the walls of the house. To tell him that his mother didn't die for her son just so that he'd be trapped in a prison forever.

His heart ached for a moment, and he did his best not to look at Harry at those words.

He could see Barty sitting in the Top Box with the terrified Winky beside him, as he was able to fight his father's Imperius Curse long enough to take the wand from the boy's pocket in front of him… he was able to get a quick glimpse of Harry out of the corner of his eyes, Minerva standing protectively next to him.

He had a good idea to who that boy had been.

"Master Barty, you bad boy!" whispered Winky as she began to really cry now.

"So you took the wand," he asked, turning his full attention back to Barty, "and what did you do with it?"

"We went back to the tent," he told him. "Then we heard them. We heard the Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my master."

He could almost sense Severus flinch behind him. "They had turned their backs on him. They were not enslaved, as I was. They were free to seek him, but they did not. They were merely making sport of Muggles. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than it had been in years. I was angry. I had the wand. I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty to my master. My father had left the tent; he had gone to free the Muggles. Winky was afraid to see me so angry. She used her own brand of magic to bind me to her."

He looked quickly at Winky, who was now howling in misery, just confirming the story.

"She pulled me from the tent, pulled me into the forest, away from the Death Eaters. I tried to hold her back. I wanted to return to the campsite. I wanted to show those Death Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant, and to punish them for their lack of it. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky."

So the Dark Mark hadn't been planned. It did have something to do with Voldemort, but not directly at least…

"Ministry wizards arrived. They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. One of the spells came through the trees where Winky and I stood. The bond connecting us was broken. We were both Stunned."

As he talked, Albus understood. As soon as Barty saw Winky, he knew right away that his son had to have been there as well. He went off to look for him, and discovered him lying there. Once they were alone, he went back for him and took him home before he recast the Imperius Curse. Though sacking Winky really hadn't done anything but made things more difficult.

But then again, he realized that by sacking Winky, he probably push the attention away from him. He glanced at the unhappy Winky; however hurting her like this wasn't worth it.

"Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then… and then…"

The foolish man's head rolled back and an insane grin slowly appeared. "My master came for me. He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant - perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door."

He felt sick at seeing the gleeful look in Barty's eyes, and judging from the terrified look in Winky's eyes, he wasn't the only one.

"It was very quick," he said evilly. "My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years."

Albus then asked, almost afraid to know the answer, "And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?"

"He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him," he answered at once, almost as if he was bragging.

Albus's eyes narrowed. Was Barty Crouch Jr. really this determine for attention? So much so that he was going to take it from such a person?

"He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first -"

"You needed Alastor Moody," he answered calmly, those a deep anger was boiling inside, and his fist clenched tightly in surpressed rage.

"Wormtail and I did it," he said. He then went on how they prepared the potion before they journeyed to Alastor's home. He wasn't at all surprise to hear that Alastor put up a fight—his old friend wasn't going to go down without a struggle. He then discovered that he had made it very convincing when Arthur Weasley and the others showed up—and able to come up with a believable story.

So he then packed Alastor's clothes and possessions and then came here. He kept the real Alastor alive so that he could fool them all. Though he was very surprised to hear that he had been stealing from Severus's private stores; which he found very strange… he'd never heard about this from him.

He then asked, "And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?"

"Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father," he answered as if it was obvious.

"But your father escaped," he guessed. So that was what happened… and now he had a bad feeling about what happened to Barty…

"Yes," he answered, his grin fading slightly. "After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done. There were periods when he knew what was happening. My master decided it was no longer safe for my father to leave the house. He forced him to send letters to the Ministry instead. He made him write and say he was ill."

And knowing young Percy Weasley, he had guessed that he didn't question it much.

"But Wormtail neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban."

His eyes flickered again as he went on, "My master sent me word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything."

"Map?" he asked quickly. "What map is this?"

"Potter's map of Hogwarts," he answered. Albus stared at him in confusion and was only even more lost when he said, "Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion from Snape's office one night. He thought I was my father. We have the same first name."

He looked at Harry again from the corner of his eye and saw the boy's pale expression. He had no idea what this was about, but he'd worry about it later.

"I took the map from Potter that night," the Death Eater explained. "I told him my father hated Dark wizards. Potter believed my father was after Snape. For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited."

So that's what happened… it had been _him_ who attacked Viktor—which could only mean that…

"I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him. Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I Stunned Krum. I killed my father."

"Noooo!" wailed Winky, clutching her ears as if determined to believe that she heard wrong—that she could make it untrue. "Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you saying?"

Determined to keep his voice as calm as possible for the others, "You killed your father. What did you do with the body?"

"Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak," he said grinning sickly. Albus hated hearing this… the pleasure in his tone. He wanted nothing more than to make him pay for all he did, but it wasn't his job to deal out punishment. "I had the map with me. I watched Potter run into the castle. He met Snape. Dumbledore joined them. I watched Potter bringing Dumbledore out of the castle. I walked back out of the forest, doubled around behind them, went to meet them. I told Dumbledore that Snape had told me where to come."

He heard Severus let out a slight splutter of indignation from behind him, though he had a feeling he was the only one who heard it.

"Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father's body. He became a bone… I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin."

There was complete silence now, except for Winky's continued sobs. And then… "And tonight…"

"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," he whispered now. "Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards."

The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky wailed and sobbed at his side.

That was all he needed to know—and all he thought he could bear. However, he knew that it was far from over. He lingered for a second longer, giving Barty Crouch a glare of nothing but disgust, before he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted themselves around him, binding him tightly. He'll deal with him later, but for now he turned to Minerva, asking her to take charge while he took Harry out of here.

"Of course," she said at once. She looked slightly nauseous, as though she had been out on the sea all day. But predictably, she drew her wand and her steady hand was ready for anything.

He then turned to Severus, "Severus, please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here; we need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me."

Severus followed his instructions without a word. That was when he finally turned to Harry and asked gently, "Harry?"

Harry got up from his seat and was swaying uneasily, and was now shaking worst than ever. Albus gripped hold of his arm very tightly as he helped him out into the dark corridor.

"I want you to come up to my office first. Harry," he said quietly as they headed up the passageway. He kept a close watch on everything around him—after everything they'd just heard, he was now feeling as paranoid as Alastor—the real one, usually felt. "Sirius is waiting for us there."

Harry nodded, but he could almost feel a kind of relief coming from the boy at Sirius's name. At least one of them was feeling a little better—but if he knew Sirius as well as he thought he did, he had a bad feeling that he was going to be at the receiving end of his hatred soon enough.

Suddenly Harry asked a question that drove everything else from his mind for a moment, "Professor, where are Mr. and Mrs. Diggory?"

He stopped for a moment, his calm demeanor fading slightly as guilt echoed throughout his body. The image of the Diggorys there with their son was heartbreaking.

"They are with Professor Sprout," he tried to sound reassuring, but he couldn't stop the slightly shaking tone. He took the safety of his students very seriously, and very personally. "She was Head of Cedric's house, and knew him best."

Neither of them said another word as they reached his office. As he knew, there was Sirius was standing there. His face was white and gaunt as it had been when he had escaped Azkaban. As soon as he saw Harry, he almost sprinted across the room to Harry. He put his hands on his shoulder and demanded, "Harry, are you all right? I knew it - I knew something like this - what happened?"

His hands were shaking as he led Harry away to the chair before he turned accusingly towards him. "What happened?"

Albus sighed as he told Sirius everything that Barty told them downstairs. Every word his spoke only seemed to make Sirius look more ghost-like if possible. He was only vaguely aware of when Fawkes flew past him to Harry's knee, to comfort him.

"'Lo, Fawkes," he heard Harry mumble as he began to stroke his feathers. Albus didn't disturb them as he continued filling Sirius in on everything. Once he was finished, Sirius looked ready to faint; but then Albus went back to his desk and sat down. Harry wasn't looking at him, and he knew that he was aware of what he was about to do.

"I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze Harry," he asked softly.

Harry wasn't the one who answered, but Sirius in a harsh voice, as if unable to believe that he was asking this. "We can leave that till morning, can't we, Dumbledore?" He had put a hand on Harry's shoulder, as he glared accusingly at him. "Let him have a sleep. Let him rest."

He ignored him as he looked at Harry. He then leaned forward towards him. With a sigh, Harry looked up into his eyes. He could see his green orbs looking at him almost blankly—he never looked so lost and confused as he did now. This helplessness that showed in them was as bad as seeing Cedric's eyes this evening.

He said very gently, "If I thought I could help you," Harry didn't react at all, but he could tell that he was listening to every word he said, "by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it."

He had wanted to do nothing more than that… but at the same time, he knew that it was crucial that he know every detail from tonight. Postponing it would only make it worse… "But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you."

He paused for a fraction of a second; hoping that Harry knew that he meant every word. "I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened."

For a few moments, Harry didn't say a word. But then Fawkes seemed to understand for he let out just a single soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and everyone in the room felt something warm and comforting inside them—giving them strength. Harry sat up a little straighter and took a deep breath.

And he listened:

"Me and Cedric both got to the cup at the same time, we decided to take it together… but as soon as we touched it… we were transported somewhere else. We figured out that the cup had been a portkey… but we didn't know where we were, only that we were far away from the castle. I mean, we couldn't even see the mountains that were around the castle anymore."

"And where were you?" he asked softly.

"A… a graveyard," he stuttered. "It was a dark graveyard… I don't remember to many details about it except that there was an old house on a hill."

Albus frowned. There was something strange about that.

"We didn't know if this was supposed to be part of the task… we pulled out our wands but nothing happened for a few minutes. And then… he came…"

"He?" Sirius asked sharply.

Harry hesitated for a moment before he whispered out, "Wormtail… with Voldemort."

Sirius's pale face suddenly grew red with fury.

"And then?" Albus asked.

Harry began to shake again. "He said… he said… to _'k-kill the spare.'_"

Albus closed his eyes in pain, but he had to keep going. "I didn't recognize Wormtail at first…" Harry went on. "He was wearing a hood… so I couldn't see his face. But he was carrying some robes with him and I thought that it was a baby or something at first… but that was when my scar started to hurt. It hurt so badly that I couldn't see anything… and then I heard Voldemort… give the order."

He stopped for a moment, taking another deep breath, "When I opened my eyes…"

He didn't say anything, but Albus didn't need him to. He watched as Harry hands clasped together in his lap and was staring down at them, as though determined to look at anywhere else but at him. "He—Wormtail—then grabbed me and tied me to a headstone… it read… Tom Riddle…"

Sirius looked confused but Albus understood. Voldemort's Muggle father. "He then left me there and left for a moment. I tried to pull free, but I couldn't even move. And Voldemort had this huge…" he gulped, "Snake… I don't think that I would've been able to escape with it there watching me. But then Wormtail, he put what I thought was the baby down and went to go and get a giant cauldron. I can't explain how I knew, but I just somehow knew that I didn't want to see what was inside it. I just knew that whatever was in there… couldn't be a good thing. The snake—Nagini—I think he called it, came over and was circling the headstone where I was tied… almost like it was impatient…"

Albus kept listening, suddenly remembering the last time Harry was in here, telling him about the dream he had with Voldemort and the snake. It all suddenly made sense to him now.

"He came back with the cauldron, and it was the biggest cauldron I've ever seen and he began working on a potion," Harry said.

Sirius opened his mouth, his hand still tight on Harry's shoulder, but Albus held his hand up, determined to get the whole story before he asked questions.

Harry took several calming breaths and went on, "I don't know what it was… but it began not only to bubble, but to send out fiery sparks, as though it were on fire. Steam was pouring out… however Wormtail seemed to be going slow because Voldemort, _the thing in the robes, _told him to hurry."

He gulped again and said, "Then it was ready…"

Once more, Sirius opened his mouth, but Albus shot him a warning look.

"Wormtail had bent down and picked up what was in the bundle, and I saw what it was," Harry was shivering, as though the thought of whatever was in those robes was haunting his mind's eye. "I wish I never did. It was the most horrible creature that I had ever seen in my life. It looked—it looked like…" he seemed to be having trouble trying to describe it. "It looked… kinda like a human baby… but it was… slimy, and burnt… it didn't have hair and the skin was… looking like it was rubbed raw… until it was just a red-black…"

Sirius's nose wrinkled in disgust, and Albus felt sick to his stomach thinking of it.

"The thing seemed almost helpless," Harry croaked out, "Because Wormtail had to pick it up and put it into the cauldron. I remember hearing it hiss before it sank in… I silently begged that the creature would drown as Wormtail raised his wand and shouted out the words… I think he said… _'Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!'_ or something like that."

Albus froze at this. He never heard of such sorcery like this before.

"That was when the ground at my feet had cracked and dust rose into the air before falling into the cauldron. The surface of the water hissed and it turned blue. At this point, Wormtail pulled out a dagger and sobbed out, _'Flesh of the servant willingly given you will revive your master.'_"

He gulped, "He then held up his right hand, and…"

No one said a word, trying to digest what Wormtail had done.

"I had my eyes shut," he muttered, determined not to say what happened, "And I heard him add it to the cauldron to. That was when the potion had turned a blood red. I could hear Wormtail crying in pain, but it wasn't until I felt his breath on my face did I know that he was right in front of me. He choked out the words, 'B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe.'There wasn't anything that I could do to stop him. I was tied to the grave as he raised the dagger and pressed the point into my right arm. I could feel my blood seeping down as Wormtail pulled out a vial and caught a few drops of it…"

At those words Albus stood up so quickly that he startled Harry. But he didn't pay much attention to that—not even hearing Sirius swearing at the top of his lungs. He just hurried around the desk, "Show me your arm, Harry," he said firmly, but softly at the same time. He had to see it… he had to know…

Harry pulled back the sleeve of his robes, and there was the still bleeding cut, just below his elbow.

"He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's," Harry told him hurriedly. "He said the protection my - my mother left in me - he'd have it too. And he was right - he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face."

Albus stared at it… then…

He looked back into the green eyes for a moment. There was still hope. But now… he sighed as he slowly turned back to his desk. There was hope… he knew, or had guessed that Harry's tragic fate would be death eventually. However he kept that information from Harry to avoid causing him anxiety from all the pressure. The triumph he felt inside him was now due to the discovery that Harry might not have to die since Voldemort taking his blood would keep his mother's sacrifice alive! However…

"Very well," he said, sitting down again. "Voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. Harry, continue, please."

Harry looked back down at Fawkes and seemed to be speaking more to the phoenix, than him. "Once he was done with me, he turned back to the cauldron, with my blood this time, and poured it in. The red potion had turned white and Wormtail fell to his knees and cried as he held the bleeding stump of an arm to him. The potion in the meantime was sending sparks everywhere. But still nothing happened…"

Albus bit his lip.

"Finally, white steam appeared and covered everything like a thick fog so that I couldn't see anything that wasn't within a foot of me. And then… I saw him."

He was now shaking so badly that it was causing Fawkes to shake on his knee.

"Through the mist, I could see him rising out of the cauldron…" Harry gulped. "Then he told Wormtail to show him his arm…"

Sirius was now also starting to shake—but in anger. "He showed him the Dark Mark… and he touched it. I… I don't remember what he said word-for-word…"

"Just tell us as much as you can remember," Albus said gently.

"He… he wondered how many would show up," he whispered croakily. "How many would be too afraid to come or stay away." He continued talking to Fawkes, so Albus was unable to see into his mind, but he was almost afraid to see it.

"He talked about his father for a minute, telling him that he was a Muggle and that he used to live in that village…"

Albus now knew where all this took place. The town where Tom Riddle Sr. had grown up and lived until his death. Little Hangleton.

"He kept talking about getting revenge on his father for that name…"

Albus nodded; understanding that the reason he hated Muggles so dearly was because of his anger towards his father…

"And then the Death Eaters all came in," he went on, Sirius's breathing hitched and Albus felt as if his heart was being squeezed.

"And what happened then?" he asked softly, not surprised that he was whispereing.

Harry didn't seem to be able to speak. It was as if the words were caught in his throat and he was shaking worse than ever. Sirius looked like he wanted to say something, but Fawkes let out a single note. Harry's shaking stopped slightly and he continued speaking to him, "They all stood in a circle around us. I couldn't see their faces, but Voldemort called them by name."

Albus didn't think he needed to guess who they were.

"He gave a speech," Harry went on. "He said… it was like he was disappointed in them. He asked, _how could they believe I could not rise again. They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death?_ Those were the words I think he said. After that, he said that he always awards his helpers and gave Wormtail a silver hand."

Sirius was grinding his teeth together. Albus was frowning. That wasn't good for Wormtail.

"What else?" Albus pressed on. Harry sighed. "He talked to Lucius Malfoy. He was there. And it turns out that he was one of the Death Eaters at the World Cup and ran when he saw the Dark Mark."

"I see," Albus whispered softly.

"He said that he was going to give him the lead spot of M-muggle-torture," he stuttered on the last part and Albus's eyes turned hard. A person to keep a close watch on…

"He also talked a little bit about the Lestrange," at this he finally looked up and they both shared a silent understand. Obviously remembering what they talked about, "he said that _they will be honored beyond their dreams. The dementors will join us… they are our natural allies… _and he talked about the giants. He said, '_we will recall the banished giants_…'"

"Who else?" Sirius asked, and Albus knew that he was making notes as he was.

"Macnair," he went on wearily. "The one who tried to execute Buckbeak. Voldemort said that he'll _'have better victims soon.' _There was also Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott… though he didn't talk to them so much. Then he went on saying that there were six Death Eaters missing. Three were dead, one to cowardly to return and he'll pay…"

Albus thought of Karkaroff; he better be warned as soon as possible. Though, with the Dark Mark, he would know sooner than anyone else that he was back. And with all the other Death Eaters he turned in, would also know that he wouldn't be welcomed back.

"And then there was one who left forever and that he'll be killed."

'_Severus,'_ he thought worriedly.

"And finally, his most faithful servant, Crouch," he stopped there for a moment, "Was at Hogwarts."

Sirius started cursing again.

"He—Voldemort—also went on explaining to the Death Eaters what happened to him," Harry went on. "He said… t-the night that he tried to kill me, my… my mother stopped him."

His eyes looked rather watery, but he kept going a little quicker—"And that because of that, he couldn't touch me. But…"

"But now he can," Albus finished for him softly.

Harry nodded. "And then he went into this long speech. He said, _'I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost… but still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know… I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal - to conquer death.'"_

Albus stared. What did that mean? He had long since theorized about Voldemort creating a Horcrux… but… is it possible that he created more than he dreamt?

"He talked about how his experiments had kept him alive, even though when the curse rebounded, it should've," Harry spoke. "He talked for some time,_ 'I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself… for I had no body, and every spell that might have helped me required the use of a wand…'"_

Albus now knew that here was the proof that he needed.

"He then talked about how he hid in Albania, expecting his Death Eaters to come and find him. But no one came. The Death Eaters weren't happy about that."

'_I should think not,'_ he thought. "Do you remember what he said, Harry?"

"He could possess others," he shuddered. "He didn't go where other people were, because of the Aurors lurking everywhere. But he mostly possessed animals—snakes he said. But he went on to say that his possession of them always shortened their lives."

Of course, if even a human body isn't made to handle that kind of stress. How could a snake last long?

"He then mentioned Quirrell," Harry spoke quietly.

"Who?" Sirius barked.

"One of his servants who tried to steal the Sorcerer's Stone four years ago," Albus explained without looking at him. "Voldemort had possessed him to get into the school… he's dead now. Most likely because of the possession. Now, what else did he say?"

"That he found him and how he used him to try and get the stone but was… stopped," Harry said, not looking at Sirius. Albus knew that he didn't want to talk about it anymore than he did. "And that he died when he left his body. When he did, he was as weak as ever so he was forced to return to Albania after that. Just when he gave up hope that anyone would find him, Wormtail did."

A deep growl was sounding from Sirius's throat.

"Wormtail had found him with the help of rats… but he stopped at an inn for some food one night, and…"

"And he found Bertha Jorkins," Albus finished softly. He remembered what Ludo had said. The last time anyone saw Bertha was when she left an inn with a man. Now he knew… it had been Peter.

"Wormtail brought Bertha Jorkins to him. And that was how he found out about the tournament," Harry said. "You heard it from—Crouch downstairs. How he found out about Crouch's son still alive and at his father's house; he broke the Memory Charm that Crouch put on her and… and…" he gulped and said shakily, "He said that he damaged her beyond repair."

Albus closed his eyes in pain. "And he killed her."

"Yes," Harry mumbled softly.

Albus put his hand up to cover his eyes, fighting the pain of hearing what happened to Bertha. They were all quiet for a minute before Harry grudging went on. "Wormtail brought him back to this country and had been able to take care of him so that he had been able to return to… to a sort of body of his own…"

The creature that he had seen tonight… really Tom… were you that desperate to cling to life, that you were willing to return as such a form?

Harry trailed off here and Albus looked to see that he was shaking worse than ever. "Spells of his own invention he said with help from Nagini—the snake," he added and he nodded. "He said, _'A potion concocted from unicorn blood, and the snake venom Nagini provided… I was soon returned to an almost human form, and strong enough to travel.'_ He knew that the stone was destroyed but with the information he got from Bertha Jorkins, he came up with a new plan."

"The tournament," Sirius said angrily. "But why you?"

"I think he said, _'it was an old piece of Dark Magic, the potion that revived me tonight - I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand. _Flesh given by a servant… so he had Wormtail. Bone from the father… so that was why they went to where he was buried… but he said that he wanted my blood because the protection my mother gave me, he'd have it to," Harry said, now sounding angry. Not that Albus blamed him. That protection was Lily's final gift to her son… it was meant for him and him alone… and the idea that Voldemort had taken such a selfless sacrifice for his own use was like trampling over something sacred. He didn't blame Harry one bit for being furious at that…

"He talked about how he used Bertha Jorkin's information to get to his servant to get my name into the Goblet of Fire. Crouch made sure that I won in the maze by clearing most of the challenges out of my way." As if he just remembered something, he looked up at him and said, "Before you stunned Crouch's son earlier, he told me that he stunned Fleur in the maze, and used the Imperius Curse on Viktor so that he could… take care of… Cedric." The name seemed painful to say and Albus's eyes softened.

"Both Fleur and Viktor are safe and sound," he assured him. "They were both pulled out of the maze—stunned, but nevertheless, both are alive and well."

Harry nodded in relief and continued, "Voldemort said that he wanted to prove to his Death Eaters that he was the stronger one…"

"What do you mean?" Sirius demanded at once.

"He… he had Wormtail untie me… and duel me."

Sirius was staring at him. Albus's breath had just got painful.

"Are you serious?" Sirius whispered. Harry had hugged himself tightly, as though he was cold—or as if he was trying to stop himself from trembling. Choosing not to answer the question, he said as if no one had said anything, "Wormtail untied me… and gave me back my wand. I thought about running for it… but…"

Of course not… he could barely walk with that injured leg… surrounded on all sides by Voldemort and his Death Eaters? That would just be suicidal.

"He was toying with me," Harry croaked out, shutting his eyes as if ashamed. "He made me bow to him… it was like he was playing a game."

Albus felt as if his heart was breaking, and Sirius's face was so red that he thought that he would explode. But Albus didn't look at anything but that trembling form… he didn't need to look inside his mind to know what that shaking was from. He had seen it multiple times from the victims of Death Eaters… the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse. He had to fight the urge to be sick… no one deserved that… much less a child. He wasn't sure how many times that Voldemort had used it on Harry, but he knew it had to have been at least twice. If he knew Tom as well as he thought he did, then there was no way that he would've stopped so easily… especially for all the times that Harry had stopped him. He was almost afraid to hear more.

"I didn't know what to do," Harry croaked out, and Albus could see that Harry was skipping over details. "I… I was just so… helpless… I knew that I was going to die…" he saw Sirius's hand tighten on his shoulder as he also began shaking horribly.

Albus didn't know what to say or do… he wouldn't at all be surprised if the boy broke down completely and started to cry. But he just kept going on as though he couldn't help himself, "I just… I faced him and… I just cried out the first spell that came into my head. Expelliarmus… and he used it… Avada Kedavra… but… I don't know what happened, but the wands… connected I guess."

"Connected?" Albus repeated softly.

"A jet of green light from Voldemorts wand just as a jet of red light blasted from mine," he explained, "And when they met in midair there was a deep gold light connecting them…"

He trailed off here, as though unable to go on.

Sirius broke the silence.

"The wands connected?" he said, looking from Harry to him. "Why?"

Harry looked up at him, and Albus was able to get just a brief look to confirm what he was told. He saw the events play out inside Harry's mind… the terrible memory of the ritual used to revive Voldemort, and the pieces of the speech that Harry hadn't been able to remember.

He saw the terrible torture that he had been forced to… how Voldemort seemed to take pleasure in hurting a child… his fists tightened in suppressed rage. But to his greatest surprise, saw that Voldemort had also attempted to try and force Harry to play along with the help of the Imperius Curse, but… he fought him off?

Unbelievable… no one had ever been able to pull that off before. Albus stared at him, as Harry stared back, unaware that he was seeing into his memory. And then he saw the moment where the wands connected… which confirmed his thoughts.

"Priori Incantatem," he muttered.

His eyes gazed into Harry's and it was almost as though an invisible beam of understanding shot between them. He had seen Harry make the choice… to try and defend himself even if it meant his death… a pride that he never felt before surged up inside him… that is a hard decision to make, even if in the moment it seems the most obvious thing in the world.

That was more than he ever did… more he ever could do.

"The Reverse Spell effect?" said Sirius sharply, bringing him back to the matter at hand.

"Exactly," he answered and then he explained where the cores of the two wands came from.

"My wand's feather came from Fawkes?" Harry gasped, amazed.

"Yes," he answered. "Mr. Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left his shop four years ago."

"So what happens when a wand meets its brother?" Sirius asked.

"They will not work properly against each other," he explained. "If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle… a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed - in reverse. The most recent first… and then those which preceded it…"

It is based mostly on will and determination… he looked interrogatively at Harry, and he nodded.

"Which means," he said slowly, his eyes still upon Harry's face, "that some form of Cedric must have reappeared."

Harry nodded again, before he looked back down at the floor so that he was unable to see anything more.

"Diggory came back to life?" said Sirius sharply.

"No spell can reawaken the dead," he sighed heavily. "All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Cedric would have emerged from the wand… am I correct, Harry?"

"He spoke to me," he croaked out, and shaking again. "Th… the ghost Cedric, or whatever he was, spoke."

"An echo," he explained, "which retained Cedric's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared… less recent victims of Voldemort's wand…"

"An old man," he croaked. "Bertha Jorkins. And…"

"Your parents?" he guessed quietly.

"Yes," said Harry so softly that he could barely hear him. Sirius was now hiding his face in his other hand, and Albus strongly suspected that he was fighting tears.

"The last murders the wand performed," he said, understanding. "In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, Harry, these echoes, these shadows… what did they do?"

For a moment, he wasn't sure that Harry was going to be able to answer, but thankfully, Fawkes chose that moment to rub his head against Harry's pale hand. Harry took a shuddering gasp, and continued speaking Fawkes, "We were suddenly lifted into the air and being carried away… with our wands still connected. The Death Eaters were all screaming for orders… but Voldemort told them not to do anything until he commanded them."

Yes, of course he would want that… his pride was on the line and he wouldn't want his Death Eaters lose to a child again.

"That's when light came shining out and it was like we were in a golden web—or a cage I guess. Then I heard singing…" Harry said, still talking to Fawkes, and now stroked his feathers. "I heard it before… phoenix song."

'_Yes, Fawkes's song…'_ Albus thought. Both wands have a phoenix tail feather as the core. However, all phoenix songs were unique. It had been his very own Fawkes that he heard… no wonder Harry felt a strong comfort here now.

"It was as if it was speaking to me," Harry went on, gently stroking the phoenix's feathers, "As if telling me not to break the connection… and… I don't know what made me do it…"

'_His instincts no doubt,'_ Albus thought.

"I didn't know what was going to happen… but Voldemort was trying to push the light down to my wand… i-it suddenly g-got so hot…" Harry stuttered, his hands twitching for a moment. It was then that Albus saw that there were very slight burns on his hands… and his anger starting growing again…

"It felt that my wand would break if it touched… I knew I'd never survive without it and I just… concentrated on pushing back…"

Albus's breathing stopped… did that mean that he overpowered Voldemort? Apparently his will overpowered Tom's, he looked at Sirius and he was showing various degrees of panic, anxiety and tension, he had a feeling that it would only get worse once the spells were brought forth.

"It… the light connected I guess. That was when I heard screams coming from the wand…" Harry said thinking it over. Albus's eyes darkened… Harry's screams. "Then… it was like the ghost of the hand came out… Wormtail's new hand. Then there were more screams… and then… Cedric…"

"His shadow one could say," Albus said softly.

Harry could only shrug. "He slowly came out of the wand and then talked to me… he told me to hang on…" his lower lip trembled a little. "His voice… sounded like it came from far away. I think… I think Voldemort was afraid of him."

Albus wasn't surprised. After all, Tom had always feared death.

"After that, the old man appeared… I remember now… I saw him in a dream," Harry mumbled. "He was killed by Voldemort over the summer."

Frank Bryce… Albus now discovered what had happened with poor Frank. But now also grateful towards the man for helping Harry as he did…

"He then told me to keep fighting," Harry said softly. "And then Bertha Jorkins came out. She said that I shouldn't let him get to me… to keep fighting. That was when she and the others were pacing around the inner walls of the web. They kept telling me that I was going to be ok… and that I could take him. I couldn't hear what they said to Voldemort though."

Albus had a few ideas—and none of them had kindness or mercy…

"That was when…" Harry said, but seemed to choke. He didn't need to say it.

"Your mother?" he asked softly. Harry's face was down so he couldn't see anything, but his emotional voice gave away what he was feeling. "She said… she said that my dad wanted to see me… she told me that it was going to be alright… that was when _he_ came…"

Sirius looked so close to breaking down at the mention of his best friend.

"He said that when the connection was broken, they'll be able to give me time to run to the Portkey and that it will take me back to Hogwarts. That was when Cedric gave me his last… request," Harry finished.

He fell silent at those words. He sighed before finally looked back up at Sirius, only to see that his face was back in his hands. Fawkes had left his knee and was now repairing his injured leg, and thick, pearly tears were falling fast; a tiny bit of color returned to his pale face.

Albus watched him for a short time before he spoke up just as Fawkes retook his usual perch by the door. "I will say it again. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight Harry. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it - and you have now given us all we have a right to expect."

His eyes darkened as they feel onto the cabinet where his Pensieve was being kept. His thoughts now dangerous close to telling him about the prophecy… he blinked firmly, dispelling that idea at once. He couldn't tell him now… not after all this. There was still time to postpone it for a little longer…

"You will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace…" he turned to Sirius and asked, "Sirius, would you like to stay with him?"

Predictably, Sirius nodded and transformed back into the great black dog and walked with them out of the office, accompanying them down a flight of stairs to the hospital wing. Harry no longer had to lean on him, but he still rocked slightly from side to side as he walked, one hand resting reassuringly on Sirius's back.

No one said a word as he led the way down the hall and reached the hospital. But as soon as he opened the door, the first thing that they saw were Hermione Granger with Molly and two of her sons standing around an angry Madam Pomfrey. It didn't take him long to guess what this was about. When they entered, they all turned and as soon as she saw Harry, Molly screamed.

"Harry! Oh Harry!"

She started to hurry toward him, but knowing that they were bound to ask questions, he stepped in quickly. He held up his hand and told her, "Molly, please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him," he added, looking around at Ron, Hermione, and Bill too, "you may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

Molly grew almost as pale as Harry as she nodded in acceptance. And as if she was looking for a way to vent some of her frustration, she turned to the other three and he heard her hiss, "Did you hear? He needs quiet!"

After reassuring Poppy that the dog will stay as well, and that there wouldn't be any problems from him, he said, "I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge, Harry." Though, he wasn't so sure Harry heard him. "I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school." He then left, trusting Harry's wellbeing to the others.

That poor boy, all he's gone through, and now Cedric… He shut the door behind him and slowly made his way down to find Cornelius. He shook his head—his heart feeling as though it had been pierced with a sharp sword.

Tom… Voldemort… he had once again miscalculated with this boy once again.

In Tom's ridiculous quest to become Voldemort, Tom did everything to achieve immortality including sinking into the darkest pit of Dark Magic there was; as well as the deaths of anyone who threatened to stand in his way. And in his own desperate, twisted attempt at making an elixir of life, he no longer has enough human left in him.

But in his foolish resurrection tonight he made a fatal error. He still thinks that he is invincible… but he couldn't be more wrong. Those few drops of Harry's blood have just sealed his fate… while it was true that taking Harry's blood will make him part of Lily's protection, but in taking in Harry's blood he's ensured Harry's survival.

Though he may deny it, Voldemort was still born as Tom Riddle—meaning that he's still human… however small a part of that humanity remains…

In other words, he still makes mistakes…

**(Done! Sorry for such a long wait, however, I hope that this long chapter will make up for it. The next chapter, will be the end for the Goblet of Fire! And then we'll finally be moving onto year 5!)**


	45. Parting of Beginnings

**Chapter 44: Parting of Beginnings**

Albus was now completely exhausted as he briefly talked to Madame Pomfrey about Harry's condition. She had promised that he had no serious injuries… at least _physical_ injuries. He glanced back at the small crowd around the boy's bed to see that he was already sleeping. He watched Molly gently lift off his glasses and put them on the side table without really looking at the scene. He had been running those words over and over again in his mind like a chant.

_"He's back! He's back! Voldemort's back!"_

Looking down at him like this, he had never viewed Harry Potter as he did now. He was fast asleep before he even finished his potion. And here, without his glasses, sleeping, he looked so much younger… almost as if he was a small child.

"More courage than the whole of the Ministry…" he murmured absently to himself as he sighed, and headed to the door.

"Albus?" Poppy asked and he stopped as he placed his hand on the doorknob. He looked back at her and she held up a bottle that was filled with swirling memories. "Alastor came to just before you got here…" she explained nervously. "He—he wanted me to give you this."

And so after that, with his head pounding, he poured the images of what he had learned tonight in his pensieve the second that he got back to his office… determined to remember any details that might help them before he turned to the memory that Alastor wanted him to see. He picked up the bottle and poured the memory in before he dove in, dreading what this was about…

He recognized where he was at once when the memory slowly appeared around him—it was Alastor's home. It had served as a temporary headquarters for the Order during the first war. Soon, enough, Alastor came limping into the room with an assortment of clothes under his arm before he put it on the bed, packing them into his suitcase.

He frowned, this must've been the night before the start of the year—his eyes widened as he realized what this was about. He knew what was about to happen, but Alastor had wanted to show him first-hand. He watched as the memory Alastor would sometimes pause in his packing and focused on listening to his dark, silent house as if he thought he heard something, but often times it was the slight banging of a tree branch hitting the window.

But then… suddenly he heard a very loud creak. Alastor heard it to, for a split second later, his wand was out and he was pointing it at the door as if he expected someone to come bursting in and attack… but nothing happened. It had been a sharp, squeaking sound like a floorboard creaking. Rising to his feet Alastor grasped his wand in one hand and his wooden staff in the other. He stumped briskly downstairs until he was just outside of the sitting room and paused there to take a quick survey. Albus followed him, and watched as his magical eye whirled and scanned the room and peered through the walls to check outside.

Suddenly he went to the door that led to the sitting room and kicked it open. He followed close behind him…

A man was calmly sitting in the next room. While he couldn't see the intruder's face, but he could make out the depression in the cushions of the chair that he was sitting in, weighted down by an unseen body.

"Disillusioned…" Alastor muttered."No wonder I couldn't see you right away. But, I'm on you now, you scum."

"Then, there's no sense in hiding any longer, is there, Moody?" the quiet yet hoarse voice responded. A slight shimmer filled the air in front of the chair, and then, a man had reappeared. Albus's eyes narrowed, the same man he had seen not even an hour ago in that office.

"Crouch!" Alastor snarled, pointing his wand dead-center on the intruder's chest. "Barty Crouch Jr.! I'd heard you'd died and were buried in Azkaban!"

Crouch Jr. grinned maniacally. "Now, now… Mad-Eye. I missed you to."

"How did you get out of Azkaban? And how did you get in here without me knowing?" he growledthreateningly.

"How? Well, I had help from people of course. But, I didn't come for small talk, Moody. I have a mission to complete, and you're the key."

"I can guess," he snarled back. "But, your vengeance will come with a heavy price tag, Crouch. You aren't leaving this house except in a pine box for what you did."

"Believe me, Moody; I would kill you right now if I had my choice for putting me in Azkaban in the first place," he said, his grin fading slightly. "But, I'm after a grander objective and I need to keep you alive."

"You're as big a fool now as you were back then, Crouch," he barked back and Albus was started at how angry Alastor was getting. This wasn't like him. "If you couldn't handle me with Bellatrix, Rastaban, and Rodolphus backing you up, what makes you think you're up to the task now, when you're alone?"

Crouch's eyes, tinged with madness, lit up at Alastor's words and he laughed an insane cackle.

"Oh, yes; because of our impatience of learning the truth, you made it your mission in life to bring us to justice at whatever the costs," he answered when he stopped laughing, the insane glint still shining in his dead eyes—he looked quite inhuman. "I had nearly forgotten about that little incident. So, tell me, Moody… When's the last time you saw the Longbottoms? I remember the last time I saw the two of them and I don't think I had ever seen a more pitiable sight."

He began to laugh as he stood up. Once again, Albus's anger began to fill up inside him, his hands curled into fists as he thought what happened to two of his favorite students… where they were now…

"Sobbing… crawling on all fours like the animals they were… unable to remember who they were…"

But he had finally gone too far.

"SHUT UP!" Alastor roared, striding forward and letting loose a blast from his wand.

Barty Crouch was blown backwards by the explosion, landing in a heap on the carpet.

"I ought to kill you right now for what you did to them," he growled, advancing on him, fury in his eyes now, glaring at Crouch with nothing but pure loathing… that was when Albus saw a dark figure behind him—but Alastor—his attention wholly on Crouch—didn't notice it. "Azkaban was too good for you after what you and your pals did. If I had it my way, all four of you would've been killed long ago and the rest of the world wouldn't have to deal with scum like you. Rouges like you deserved to be damned."

Crouch watched him approach, again laughing his hysterical cackle. "No, Moody; I've learned much more since we last met. I'm smarter and far more dangerous than when you captured us." He paused to twist his face in an insane smile and Albus felt sick to his stomach at the look. "And you aren't actually young anymore are you? Old… but still deadly. So do you honestly think that I would've come here without some backup?"

Alastor was so angry, that he hadn't been paying attention to anything but Crouch—and it cost him.

"STUPIFY!" shrieked a squeaky voice that could've only belonged to Peter started to fade around them, and knew that Alastor's memory ended here. The last thing he heard was Crouch shouting out, "Well done, Wormtail! The master will be most pleased. Now, hurry… the authorities will be here soon."

Albus shook his head once he returned to the present. He regretted ever looking into that memory… the sick amusement in Crouch's face made him sick. He wished that he could forget that look…

But before he could…

"Albus!" Dilys's voice shouted and he looked up grimly. Now what has happened? "It's Fudge!" she cried. "He's looking for you and heading down to the hospital wing. He and Minerva are almost screaming at each other!"

Albus shook his head irritably. After all this, the last thing he wanted was for Fudge to bother Harry now. He raced down to the hospital but just as he got to the fifth floor he could hear yelling coming from just below.

"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva -" he heard Cornelius's voice, much louder than it normally was.

"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" Minerva yelled at him furiously. "When Dumbledore finds out -"

He didn't like the sound of that… what did Fudge do this time? He heard a door burst open just as he reached the end of the hallway.

"Where's Dumbledore?" he heard Fudge demand.

"He's not here," Molly's furious voice sounded. He resisted the urge to curse Fudge for his stupidity. Bursting into the hospital wing like this? It reminded him bitterly of when Sirius escaped last year and Severus's reaction. Whatever reason they had for acting like this better be good.

He reached the doors just as Molly said heatedly, "This is a hospital wing. Minister, don't you think you'd do better to -"

He opened the doors and came sweeping up the ward to see Minerva and Fudge standing there; both of them red in the face with suppressed fury.

"What has happened?" he asked sharply looking at them both as he would over children who were being too loud. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you - I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch -"

"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!" she shrieked at once. "The Minister has seen to that!"

He stopped at that. It was the first time he had ever seen her lose complete control of her anger like this. She normally was able to keep calm no matter what the situation—but here she was, her face red, her hands were fists, and she was trembling with fury.

Suddenly a new voice interrupted and he turned around in time to see Severus entering the room, looking angry as well, "When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events, he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch -"

Albus felt a cold go through him that always came with the effects of the dementors. They were here? Those monsters were here in the castle where the students were?!

"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" Minerva shouted, noticing the look on his face. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but -"

"My dear woman!" roared Fudge in fury, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous -"

He had nothing against that—but why not an Auror? Albus most certainly would rather die than bring one of those specters within range of the children here. What was Cornelius thinking? Albus turned to him furious, but Minerva shouted over Fudge, pointing a shaking hand at him as she croaked out, "The moment that - that thing entered the room it swooped down on Crouch and - and -"

But he didn't need her to finish as she struggled to find words. He knew… he knew what the dementor must have done. It had administered its fatal kiss to Barty Crouch. It had sucked his soul out through his mouth. He was worse than dead.

"By all accounts, he is no loss!" blustered Fudge at once and Albus turned to stare at him. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths'."

But Albus was now looking had him long and hard as if seeing him in a whole new light. Was this the kind of person really in charge? He may have hated Barty Crouch Jr. with a passion for all that he had done… but not even he would have ever have wished such a terrible fate on him. He continued to stare at this short, angry wizard in front of him, who was trying to excuse what his actions had done. "But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius. He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."

"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" blustered Fudge again. "He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"

Albus didn't say anything for a moment, wondering how to break this to him. He then said slowly and carefully, hoping that his words would be enough to get through Fudge's head. "Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius. Those peoples deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."

Fudge opened his mouth as if he was about to argue again until his jaw dropped open in horror at his words. He looked as if someone had just tried to deliver a knock-out punch to him as he staggered slightly where he stood and stared at him as if he was sure that he had lost his mind.

Finally, he was able to stutter weakly, "You-Know-Who… returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore…"

"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," he said with a nod towards them, "we heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort –" he couldn't have cared less if Fudge filched here, "learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins - went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."

Suddenly a small smile appeared on Fudge's face and Albus could see that he didn't believe this story any better than the idea of the tooth fairy. "See here, Dumbledore, you - you can't seriously believe that You-Know-Who - back? Come now, come now… certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders - but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore…"

Albus shook his head and explained slowly to him, "When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort. He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office."

He suddenly looked up and wasn't at all surprised to see Harry was awake and staring at them both. With all the yelling going on around him, he had a feeling that he had been awake from the moment that he walked in. And knowing that Fudge would want to question him, he shook his head and told him firmly, with no hint of relenting, "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight."

Fudge's only continued with the mad smile before he also glanced at Harry before he glanced back at him to ask, "You are - er - prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"

There was a moment's silence, which was broken by Sirius growling. His hackles were raised, and he was baring his teeth at Fudge as if to say,_ 'how dare you?'_

Albus understood Sirius's anger very well. His eyes narrowed as he fought to keep his own fury under control. He could see where this was going… and he had to prevent it from happening. "Certainly, I believe Harry," he told Fudge firmly. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."

Fudge still had that strange smile on his face, still not believing him. Once again, he glanced at Harry before answering, "You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who… well…"

Fudge shot Harry another look, and finally Harry spoke, "You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge." The others all jumped, clearly not realizing that he was awake—but Albus continued to look at Fudge who's his face started turning red.

"And if I have?" he demanded, looking at him accusingly. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place -"

"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" he asked calmly. While, at the same time, he wanted to tell him that it wasn't any of his business what every single student here was capable of or not.

"You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" he demanded quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly - hallucinations?"

He stepped forward, his anger now starting to spill over. "Listen to me, Cornelius. Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."

Fudge had taken half a step back from him but he still kept fighting back, refusing to give in, "You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before…"

Well that would be because there has never been a scar like Harry's before. But before he could voice this, Harry suddenly started shouting.

"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" He tried to get out of bed again, but Molly was preventing him from moving. "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy -"

"Malfoy was cleared!" said Fudge, visibly affronted, and Albus knew that he was upset to remember that Lucius's bribes were indeed illegal. "A very old family - donations to excellent causes -"

"Macnair!" Harry continued.

"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"

For the wrong reasons of course…

"Avery - Nott - Crabbe - Goyle -"

Albus finally shot Harry a warning look. This wasn't helping.

"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" said Fudge angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heavens sake, Dumbledore!" he turned back to him, "The boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too - his tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them - the boy can talk to snakes. Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"

Albus finally had enough of Fudge's treatment of his student and, if he recalled correctly, he was the one dying to meet Harry for years. Judging a child because he had a power he couldn't help… It isn't your abilities that make you good or evil, it is how you use them! What's more, he's the Minister of magic, and it was his sworn duty to protect the magical community, yet he brushes this information off as lies!

"You fool!" Minerva cried, voicing what he was thinking. "Cedric Diggory! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"

"I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted Fudge, now matching her anger, his face purpling—downright refusing to see all the evidence that was right in front of him. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"

Albus knew that if he didn't except this soon then it would only cost the lives of innocent people. Fudge was so determined to hang onto the idea of being in charge of his peaceful little world, that the idea of being the leader during a war scared him. Yet the fact remained that he wasn't a leader… even if he did believe this story, he would never be able to guide the country through this hard time.

"Voldemort has returned," he repeated, hoping that he could remind him that his duty was to the people, not to his reputation. "If you accept that fact straightaway Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors -"

"Preposterous!" shouted Fudge again. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"

How he could ever trust those terrible creatures was beyond him when his own dementor just did to Crouch upstairs. "The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" he said firmly, reminding him that dementors show no loyalty to anyone.

"They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"

The idea of having the dementors breeding would only serve to worsen the situation; having more people panic and the feelings of darkness would press deeper on them from all sides.

"The second step you must take - and at once," he went on with Fudge was too stunned to speak, "is to send envoys to the giants."

"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieked, remembering how to speak again. "What madness is this?"

'_Not madness, but reason,'_ he thought bitterly before he went on explaining, remembering how the giants had joined Voldemort during the first war hoping for a better life.

"You - you cannot be serious!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from him as if afraid that he would catch some disease. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants - people hate them, Dumbledore - end of my career -"

Albus felt the need to curse him. That was what he was concerned about? His job? When so many people were now at terrible risk?! "You are blinded," he came close to yelling, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be!"

That had always been Fudge's greatest weakness… he was a weak man. Easily swayed such as with Lucius keeping him in his pocket, and now… power. He could see that the idea of giving up his position of Minister, along with all the power and privileges that came with it was something he would not do.

"Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any - and see what that man chose to make of his life!" he cried out, hoping that he could get through to him here. "I tell you now- take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act - and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"

"Insane," whispered Fudge, still backing away. "Mad…"

And then there was silence. Madam Pomfrey was standing frozen at the foot of Harry's bed, her hands over her mouth, as though horrified that they could be arguing like this. Molly was still standing over Harry, her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from rising while the others were all staring at Fudge as if they expected to see someone else there.

But he kept his eyes on the trembling man in front of him. He knew that Fudge wasn't going to listen. He knew that it would just be easier for him to believe that it was all a lie, and so he gave him a warning, "If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius, we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I - I shall act as I see fit."

If Fudge truly refused to take action, then the whole world would suffer because of his stubbornness. He may try to stick his head in the sand and ignore everything that was happening around him, but that won't change anything.

"Now, see here, Dumbledore," he said, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me -"

Albus shook his head. It was him who was fighting against them by letting Voldemort do what he wants. "The only one against whom I intend to work," he reminded him, "is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."

It seemed Fudge could think of no answer to this. He rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his hat in his hands. Finally, he said, with a hint of a plea in his voice, "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be…"

The idea of the dark wizard returned to the world was terrifying as they all remembered how terrible it had been before he was here. But it was the truth. Before he could say this, suddenly, Severus came up and showed him the mark on his arm.

"There," he snapped harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight?"

Albus blinked, he had forgotten about Karkaroff. Well, he wished him luck, unless he left the country completely, he had a feeling that he wouldn't live for much longer.

"We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

He glanced back at Fudge. It seemed now that they just gave him further evidence, however given Fudge's reactions thus far, he was sure to brush this aside.

Fudge stepped back from Severus too like he did to him before. He was shaking his head. He stared, apparently repelled by the mark before he whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."

He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped at Harry's bed.

"Your winnings," he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto the bedside table. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances…"

But Albus knew that Harry wouldn't want that money. That sack of gold wouldn't do anything but remind him of what happened tonight. He watched Fudge until he went stomping out of the room and slamming the door behind him like how an angry teenager would do after an argument with his parents. The moment he had disappeared, Albus looked to them all, knowing that he had a lot of work to do to make up for Fudge's idiocy.

"There is work to be done," he said. "Molly… am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course you can," said she said at once, her face pale but determined. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."

Albus nodded in agreement; Arthur should've been promoted at least five times by now. "Then I need to send a message to Arthur. All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."

"I'll go to Dad," Bill offered at once. "I'll go now."

"Excellent," he told him in relief. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry -"

It would cost Arthur and several other people their jobs. And they needed to have as many on the inside as possible.

"Leave it to me," Bill told him with certainty before he clapped a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, kissed Molly's cheek and left.

When he was gone, he suddenly thought of a job for Hagrid this summer. "Minerva," he said at once, turning to her. "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also - if she will consent to come –" he wasn't sure if she would be willing, but it was still a chance… "Madame Maxime."

Once Minerva left, he knew that he now had a very difficult task here as well. But as he looked to Poppy, he remembered Crouch, and asked if she would go and take care of Winky. Startled, but she obeyed without any complaint as she also left. He waited until he was positive that she was gone before he shut the door and turned to the two in the room that needed to speak to each other face-to-face.

"And now," he said bravely, "it is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius… if you could resume your usual form."

Sirius had turned back, causing Molly to scream. Thankfully, a few words from Ron were able to get her to stop, but she hovered protectively over the three of them as if she thought that the escapee would attack them at any moment. Severus on the other hand…

"Him!" Severus snarled, staring at Sirius, whose face showed just as much hatred. And Albus knew that the only reason that the Potion's Master hadn't pulled out his wand was because he was there. "What is he doing here?"

"He is here at my invitation," he told them both, "as are you, Severus." He reminded him carefully. "I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."

He knew that what he was asking would need nothing short of a miracle as he watched them both continue to glare at each other. But… "I will settle, in the short term," he said firmly, hoping that they would remember that they were grown men, not school children anymore, "for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any us."

And at those words, the two of them very slowly came closer and shook hands—though it was clear from the looks on their faces, that they wished nothing but a very painful death for the other. The handshake didn't last long, but that was about the best he could've asked for.

"That will do to be going on with," he spoke up as he stepped, between them once more. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything."

He had a feeling all along that Fudge would've acted like this, and wasn't going to change his mind over night. He turned to them both and gave them orders. He had told Sirius to go and contact all the other members of the Order and to hide out at Remus's until further notice. He also knew that Remus would want to know what happened here. He had been receiving a few letters from him asking how Harry was doing…

"But -" Harry's voice interrupted them. Albus glanced at him and he could see that Harry didn't want Sirius to go already.

"You'll see me very soon. Harry," said Sirius, turning to him. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "Yeah… of course I do." But Albus could see that he still didn't look happy and he felt that familiar bit of guilt rise again now that his anger was gone. Sirius was a form of comfort for Harry that he had never known before… and he hated having to take that away so soon, however, there was no choice in the matter.

Sirius walked back over to him and grasped his hand briefly, but tightly and he could see that this was painful for Sirius as well. He sighed as he turned back to him and transformed into the dog again and then walked out of the hospital… he couldn't help but wonder briefly how everyone would react once they saw a dog walking the halls.

Once he was gone, he then turned to Severus who had gone paler than usual. Both of them knew what was about to happen. He will have to return to the death eaters, as a spy. But they won't kill him if he played his cards right. He had every confidence in Severus, he was sure he is very capable, otherwise I would not ask him to do this. "Severus, you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready… if you are prepared…?"

"I am," he answered.

"Then good luck," said he said, worried he watched him leave as well. He knew that returning to serve the man who had killed Lily would be almost unbearable to him… but they needed him…

"I must go downstairs," he said finally. "I must see the Diggorys." He looked to Harry, feeling retched that he wasn't able to offer any other forms of comfort. "Harry - take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later."

He then left and headed back up to his office were Minerva was with Hagrid and Madame Maxime. He couldn't help but vaguely wonder when he would be able to get another good night's sleep.

*The Next Day*

Molly had gone back home to the Burrow the next day after she was sure that Harry would make a full recovery, but before she did, she came to see him.

"Please, Dumbledore," she pleaded. "Why not have Harry come straight over to our house this summer? I'm sure that he does need to be with his friends… especially last night…"

Albus sighed and answered grimly, "Molly, I'm sorry, but I must insist that he goes back to his relatives at least for a short time."

"But with the Ministry refusing to believe us," said Molly upset, "It won't be any easier on him."

"Harry has sense," he tried to assure her, though inside he was also worried. He knew that Harry wouldn't take well to being forced to go back to that house after all this had happened… but it was the safest place for him. He could only hope that that his reckless nature wouldn't get him into any trouble. "He won't go looking for more trouble," he added softly… trying to convince himself of that.

"But…" she stated and he interrupted her gently.

"I appreciate that you care about his well-being, Molly. But you must trust me." When she continued to look angry, he asked, "How is he anyway?" and at the question, he could see her anger faded slightly from her eyes to be replaced by a sad look.

"He's in a horrible state, Dumbledore," she said tearfully. "He blames himself for that boy's death. He didn't come out and say it, but I know he must. He was almost crying last night after you all left."

Albus gave her a sad look. "We'll do what we can to help him, Molly. I just need you to continue to care for him."

She sniffled once, but she left without another word. As she reached the door however, she stopped for a moment, as though she wanted to say something else, but if she did, it passed. He watched her go… as he continued to sink deeper into shame. He felt sick at heart knowing that he was forcing Harry to return to Privet Drive. But there was nothing for it. Now that Voldemort was back, he needed to be safe as possible. He needed a break from the wizarding world.

He had asked Dilys to keep a very close watch on Harry; and she had informed him when the Diggorys came to see him.

"He tried to give her the money," she told him sadly. "But I don't think either of them want it."

"I'm not surprised," he said grimly. That money was nothing but a reminder of Cedric's death. He briefly wondered what Harry would do with it, but then again, that wasn't any of his business. Dilys had been keeping a close watch on him on his orders without complaint until he had been released from the hospital later that night. For the rest of the time, he had them following him around and keeping him in their sights at all times. The last thing that he wanted was for the boy to remain unguarded. After all… who's to say that something like this could happen again?

Most of the time Harry had been spending his time with no one but Ron and Hermione, and he was now enduring the faint whisperings of the rest of the students to how they thought Cedric had died. He was glad that he had told the student body to leave him alone before Harry was released from Madame Pomfrey. This wasn't what he needed now…

A few days later, it was the leaving feast. Tonight, instead of the normal bright colors that celebrated the House who won the House Cup, he had put up the black drapes in memory of Cedric before the rest of the staff and the students came in. Alastor took his spot next to him… but now more paranoid than ever before. They all had to be careful what he said to him when they spoke to him… he kept jumping at every little thing—not that he blamed him. As for Madame Maxime, she was there sitting next to Hagrid, but Karkaroff wasn't there anymore, and Albus vaguely wondered where he was now.

Severus was also there, very pale… he knew that it hadn't been easy, but he had been able to convince Voldemort that he was his spy.

Once everyone was in here, he stood up and the hall became quiet.

He looked around at them all before he said, "The end of another year."

He paused, as his eyes went to the miserable Hufflepuff table. He felt his heart ache for them… feeling the pain so clearly…

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," he said softly before he turned to the rest of the hall, knowing that he was going to let them know the truth of Cedric's death before they hear nothing but a lie from the Ministry.

He raised his head and looked over to the Hufflepuffs again, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here, enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."

And he was glad that they did… everyone had stood up and raised their goblets in honor of the brave young man whose life was cut short before it even started. Once they drank to his memory, he went on to tell them just what kind of person that Cedric had been. To let them know that it was these kinds of people who would die in this war…

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," he said, wanting them to know that he meant everything he was saying and that they never forget it. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

He sighed deeply before he said loudly and firmly, without a shred of doubt in his tone… "Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at him in disbelief and horror. He knew that many of them grew up with stories of the first war, and the idea of a second one would scare them. But he stayed calm, patiently waiting until they fell silent again.

"The Ministry of Magic," he said, trying his best to hide the distain in his voice at them, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

He felt anger boiling inside him at the thought of them treating Cedric's death as nothing but a freak accident. How dare they?

He then went on with another important matter that he felt he had to address. "There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedrics death. I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."

As he predicted, everyone turned to look at Harry's pale face before looking back at him. He then went on, "Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."

He wanted them to remember that a madman, a murderer, or a liar wouldn't have done that. He looked directly to Harry—hoping that he understood that he still believed in him as he raised his goblet again. They drank to him, though he had a feeling that many Slytherins—mostly the children of the Death Eaters—refused.

Once they sat again, he continued to remind them all the true meaning of why the tournament had been held. "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemorts return - such ties are more important than ever before."

He then looked at Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Viktor Krum, especially looked afraid. He knew that being controlled and forced to attack Cedric as he did must've been painful for him.

He gave them all gentle looks, trying hard not to think of a former Durmstrang student he once thought he knew. He pushed those feelings away and told himself how much they would need their support now more than ever. "Every guest in this Hall, will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemorts gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open."

He had hoped, despite everything that had happened this year, that they had grown to be friends. That everyone in this hall would leave here having learned something vital from their foreign acquaintances and see that they were not as different as they thought they were.

"It is my belief - and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder."

He did his best not to look at those students.

"A week ago, a student was taken from our midst. Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort."

He held his head high, pride mixed in with his grief for the young Hufflepuff. "Remember Cedric Diggory."

*The Next Day*

Albus watched from one of the countless windows of an empty classroom at all the students getting ready to leave. They were all gathered together, all three schools, with all the students mixed together hugging and saying goodbye. He smiled slightly at the warm site, reminding him that some good had come from all the hardships and tragedy of this year. He watched as Hagrid and Madame Maxime exchanged their goodbyes—but knew that it was for only a short while. He had been pleased when she had agreed to accompany Hagrid for his search for the giants over the summer on the condition that she would be back in time for the next school year.

He watched as the final Beauxbatons student climbed into the carriage and the horses spread their wings to take off. Then he stared sadly at the Durmstrang students all pile onto the ship and sank beneath the waves before he sighed again and turned his attention to his own students all climbing into the carriages to take them down to the train.

It was sadder than usual when he watched them travel across the grounds—the carriages in a single, winding line… only for them to return next year to be either believers… or like the ministry… think that they were only making up stories.

Once the final carriage was out of his sights, he glanced up to the clear and sunny sky, it couldn't have been more different from his mood if it tried. He heard the door behind him open then…

"Headmaster?" Severus's voice said.

Albus turned to see him. "Hello, Severus. Tell me, how is it going?"

"The Dark Lord wasn't happy when I appeared," Severus said coming to stand next to him. "If he wasn't so interested in why I came back in the first place, he would've killed me on the spot. But once I was able to convince him otherwise, he is now very pleased with what I told him."

"You must be careful, Severus," he warned anxiously. "If he were to ever find out the truth…"

"I know how to take care of myself," he told him firmly. Severus didn't look at him, but he asked, "What of the ministry?"

"Still refusing to believe the truth," he sighed miserably. "And knowing Fudge, it will stay that way. He won't believe us unless he sees Voldemort himself. But more than anything I'm surprised that Rita hasn't written anything since the day of the Third Task. I have to say, it's not like her."

"And the boy?" Severus asked coolly. "The Dark Lord is furious that he managed to escape him and all his Death Eaters like that. He feels that the boy humiliated him in front of his servants. He can't figure out how it happened."

Albus glanced at him sadly. Of course not… he knew that Tom would never understand. But now feeling as if his pride was now heavily damaged… he won't show any mercy should he meet Harry again… which Albus knew he would.

Tom wouldn't want to risk that again… he wants to kill Harry as quickly as possible for escape once again. "Harry is doing as well as can be expected," Albus told him. "He will remain with his mother's sister for the blood wards. It is the safest place for him now. I will have several of the Order members keeping an eye on him this summer as well. Should anything happen, the ministry will be there to try and find an excuse to expel him. Later tonight, will be the first Order meeting."

They stood there in silence for a long time, looking out at the sunny grounds… never of them so much as moved as they watched the scarlet train depart from the station and disappeared beyond the green fields.

Finally, Albus asked almost absent-mindedly, "What are our chances?"

Severus didn't ask what he meant, but he didn't need to. He sighed before he turned and left the room with a grim response, "Don't ask…"

**(Done with another year! Finally, we get to move onto year five. I have a question though. I do plan on finishing up through year seven of course. But should I write a version where Dumbledore is watching over Harry and his friends, or his portrait version? Please write what you think it should be and why. Also, I do hope that you enjoyed this chapter. I've been having a hard time trying to think of inspiration for this story.)**


	46. The Price of Gold

**Chapter 45: The Price of Gold**

Late that night, Albus left the castle and disapperated to a small flat on the outskirts of London. He looked around sadly at the rundown place before he headed up the worn stairs and knocked. There was silence for a moment until a familiar voice called. "Who is it? I should warn you, there's a vicious dog here…"

"It is I, Albus Dumbledore. I need to speak to you, Remus," he called back. At once the door opened, and his former staff member stood there—looking pale but he was smiling when he saw him.

"Professor," he said gladly.

"It's good to see you again, Remus," he said sincerely, bowing his head slightly.

"Come in, sir, and sit down," Remus stood aside to let him enter. But then he stuck his head out and glanced around cautiously before he shut and bolted the door behind him.

"I haven't had to do that since after the first war," he said grimly as they walked down a dark hallway… as soon as they entered the kitchen, the first thing that he saw was a large black dog at the kitchen table.

"Sirius," he acknowledged, eyes twinkling as Sirius regained human form and pulled out a chair to sit down.

"Sir," Sirius nodded. "How's Harry?"

"He's…" Albus said slowly, wondering how best to say this. "Dealing with it all as well as can be expected," he sighed at last. "He was in the hospital wing for only two days before Madam Pomfrey felt that it was safe enough for him to leave."

"But _is_ he safe?" Sirius pressed on urgently.

"Nothing else has happened over the last week," Albus told him truthfully. "He left on the Hogwarts Express just this morning and should be back to Privet Drive right about now. He will be safe there so long as he's inside the house."

"What do you mean?" Remus wanted to know, taking a seat beside Sirius.

"Still, I would feel better if we put measures in place to watch over Harry while he's at the Dursleys," Albus went on as if he didn't hear the question. "I don't think it likely there will be an incident but better to err on the side of caution."

"I don't see why he has to go there at all," Sirius frowned. "Wouldn't he be safer in the wizarding world? Like with Ron Weasley's family or with us…" his face brightened. "He could come and stay here with Remus and me."

Albus had a feeling that Sirius would ask that question. Why must he always be the bearer of bad news?

"That's not possible at the moment, Sirius," he answered gently. Predictably, Sirius looked angry.

"Why not?" Sirius demanded heatedly. "You know that Remus and I would protect him with our lives."

"Yes, I know," Albus nodded. "But that's not the issue here, Sirius…"

"You don't trust us, do you?" Sirius demanded loudly, drowning out his voice. "You don't think that we'd be able to do even that much right?"

"It's got nothing to do with—" Albus disagreed, but Sirius was on his feet again.

"I'm his godfather! And now you think that I…" Sirius was so close to shouting.

"Sirius—" Albus called out.

"Sirius, please!" Remus cried loudly as he put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. At his touch, Sirius seemed to remember where he was, and his harsh breathing started to calm down. He glanced at his friend… and then he slowly sat down.

"Alright," Remus said, turning back to Albus. "Why don't you tell us why the Muggles are a better choice to look after Harry?"

"Because his aunt is his mother's sister," he answered simply.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Sirius barked irritably.

Albus sighed and finally came out to tell them the truth. "It was powerful magic that saved Harry the night his parents were killed. And it's that same magic that protects Harry now. Lily's sister offered him shelter and while he continues to live under her roof for at least part of the year, he is shielded from an attack by Voldemort."

He leaned forward, blue eyes focused intently on Sirius. "I have no doubts about you, Sirius. Either about your allegiance or your abilities. I know that you would rather die than let anything harm Harry. I hope you believe me."

Sirius glared at him, but slowly nodded in understanding.

"Which reminds me," Albus said slowly, thinking it all over. "I have something for you."

He produced an oblong box which he pushed across the table. Puzzled, Sirius opened it and then caught his breath.

"It's not the same as your old one," Albus said bowing his head, "But it is an excellent one… very near to the one that you used to have.

Sirius lifted out the wand and ran his fingers along it. "It's nice…" he muttered. "Can't remember the last time I held my own wand…"

He pointed to a teapot on the counter, and with a small pop, it turned into a large turtle.

"Thank you, sir," he swallowed, as he turned it back into a teapot.

There was an awkward pause and then Albus nodded. "You're welcome, Sirius. If we are to fight in this war, you need a wand for your own. And while I have not been unprepared for Voldemort's return, it will not be easy and we need all the help we can get. Ever since he disappeared thirteen years ago, I always knew that he would find a way back. How long… I didn't know… but I knew he _would_ return." He gave a sad smile. "Of course, other people do not want to face the truth."

"You mean, the Ministry," Remus spoke up knowingly.

"I've tried speaking to Fudge again about this. It would be so much easier with the Ministry taking the lead," he sighed. "Unfortunately, he continues to deny the truth. I don't know what I'll have to do to convince him."

"He can't honestly think that you are making this all up," Sirius said darkly. "Just pretending it's a lie doesn't make it one! It's only going to help Voldemort out!"

"I know," Albus nodded in agreement. "But luckily," he went on, "We have time to prepare ourselves and to cut him off before he gets too much power. Thanks to Harry, we know he's returned and what he's planning. And we have new additions to our ranks. Alastor had told me that he has several young Auror's in mind… of course, we need to establish a Headquarters."

After a few minutes of silence, Sirius spoke again.

"I think I can help you out with that," he said softly. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off his new wand and was now causing a few teacups to levitate. "I know a place that we can use for Headquarters."

Sirius turned to him and gave him a rather grim smile. "I will introduce you to my loving family home."

*A few hours later*

After making a few extra precautions, the two men, and one dog appeared in a dark alleyway, about a block away from the house. Sirius led the way across the street, and through a shortcut that led them straight until they were all standing outside a gloomy looking house between number 11 and number 12. The front door was battered and the walls were dirty; the windows were coated with so much grime that they couldn't see in… it looked as if no one lived here for years.

Albus raised his Deluminator and caused all the lights to go out before Sirius was able to transform back into a human.

"Grimmauld Place?" Remus asked him in surprise once he was back on two legs. "I thought you said that when you left this place, you left for good."

"Yeah," Sirius stated, almost angry. "But I heard that my dear old mother's finally gone. Even though she disowned me, the house is still mine. It's a safe place. My father put all sorts of spells on the house to keep Muggles and any other wizards from ever finding it—don't know why they ever would want to," he added in a dark undertone. "I'm sure we could put more up. But the house has been empty for about ten years now, so who knows what's happened since then."

He then walked up the front steps, banged on the front door, before he kicked the door open. "HONEY? I'M HOME!"

"Sirius, please, control yourself," Albus said as he followed.

"Oh, excuse me," Sirius said, his voice dangerously mock-pleasant. At that moment, they heard loud screeching… it was a horrible, blood-curdling screech that made Albus feel as if his eardrums were going to bleed. He looked around, trying to see what the cause was…

A curtain in the hallway suddenly was blown open, and there was a portrait of an old woman in a black cap was screaming as if she was completely mad. "Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers -"

"Ah," Sirius said coolly over the loud noise. "Mother dearest." He marched right up to the portrait. "Hello, you ugly, old hag!"

Her eyes bulged when she saw him. "YOU!" she screeched. "Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!"

"Sorry!" he yelled sarcastically, putting a hand to his ear. "Can't hear you!"

And with a bang, he pulled out his wand and the curtain was blown over to cover the portrait.

He looked back at the two of them. "You have no idea how long I wanted to say that."

Albus stared at him. But before he could say anything, something slinked across the hallway. He up at once to see the oldest house-elf he had ever seen there, wearing almost nothing except a filthy loincloth. The elf walked forward and bowed low, "Master Sirius," he said, before he added in an undertone, "My mistress's greatest disgrace has returned to bother poor Kreacher… oh, the shame."

"A house-elf?" he repeated as Sirius groaned in horror.

"Kreacher," he growled. "Horrible little toerag. I see he hasn't changed all this time. I thought he was dead to. Oh, well… maybe the shock of giving him clothes would do it."

Kreacher slunk past them as if he couldn't see them and wandered off, glaring at Sirius all the way. "Greatest disgrace. Master has returned. Mistress's greatest disgrace…"

Albus frowned at him patiently.

"Sirius, I understand that having Kreacher here is hardly ideal," he told him, "But this is his house, also. If we do use it for headquarters, then we simply have to live with him, and to do that, we'll have to treat him with kindness and respect."

Sirius didn't answer, his eyes narrowed in dislike as the elf went off into the dark house.

"Sirius?" Remus asked in worry.

"I heard you. Not that I think it'll help his mood any…" he added in disgust. "It'll be easier just to sack him already…"

"Albus is right, Sirius," Remus said slowly. "If we antagonize him, he'll find ways to twist your words and keep doing things…"

"All right, all right…" he snapped irritated.

"The house seems to be coming along very well," Albus said looking at him. "I think that it should serve well… once we—ah—get it cleaned up…"

*The Burrow*

Sirius showed him the house, and explained all the enchantments that were keeping the house safe. Once he cast his own spells—as well as becoming the new Secret Keeper of Grimmauld Place, he knew that it would be hard to find a safer house anywhere… well, safe from Voldemort anyway. Some parts of the house left him with an uneasy feeling.

After about a week, he had gone over to the Burrow to inform the Weasleys that it would be for the best if they moved here as well. However, when he got there, he was greeted by terrible news.

"Percy and I had… gotten into a disagreement last night," Arthur explained to him—his face as pale and as stony as a marble statue. His eldest son, Bill was there, holding his mother's hands as she cried. "It ended with him storming out of the house and swearing he'd never be back…"

Molly didn't seem to be able to speak as she held the handkerchief to her red and swollen eyes.

"He got angry last night, Mum," Bill said soothingly, rubbing her hands. "You know how Percy gets. He has a hot head… he didn't mean any of the things he said. Once he calms down, he'll realize that he didn't mean a word…"

"What happened?" Albus asked anxiously, as he stepped over to her.

"In a way it's… it's just as well he left the house." Arthur said jerkily, as though trying to convince himself it was the best thing. "Fudge gave him a position in his own office, as his Junior Assistant or some along those line. With how Fudge is these days…"

He trailed off for a moment before he sighed, "He's looking for excuses to fire anybody who has anything to do with you, Dumbledore. And he suspects me. He's just using Percy…" Molly gave a great sob as Arthur was twisting a tea towel in his hands so violently that it was fraying before his eyes. "I tried to warn him but…"

"That's what really set him off," Bill explained softly, rubbing Molly's shoulder in a consoling way. "But you know… he was always 'by the rules' person. He's always had such high respect for authority, and thinks that they're so great that they can't be wrong. And anyone who says otherwise…"

"Molly," Albus said gently, sitting next to her. "I know Percy. Whatever he said, he didn't mean it. He's just angry. And we all say things we don't mean when we're angry. He's narrow-minded, ambitious, maybe… but I'm sure he must think he's doing the right thing…"

Bill failed to suppress a derisive noise.

"Maybe," he said darkly. "But he's stubborn. It's that promotion! He's always thought that to get ahead in life, you have to get a high-position in the government."

"Perhaps," Albus told him softly. "But I also seem to recall that he got high marks in all his O.W.L's, as well as his N.E.W.T's… he's very intelligent. Intelligent enough to know what's really going on soon. Maybe he lost his temper because he was desperate somehow; maybe he's begun to see through it already and didn't want to admit the fact that a war could happen again."

Albus sighed before he said, "I know that Percy is someone who holds himself to very high standards. It's very painful for someone like that to admit when they're wrong, but when he does, he'll be thankful that you didn't lie for his comfort or give up on him…"

"That does sound like him," Bill said to his mother. "You see, mum? He's just being stubborn! He'll see that we weren't lying sooner or later. And I know that you'll be the first one to forgive him…"

"Maybe you're right…" Molly sniffled. She dried her eyes with her handkerchief and seemed to calm somewhat. Smiling gently, Albus took out the slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. Which said:

**'****The Headquarters of the order of the Phoenix is located at number 12 Grimmauld place.'**

"I know that it is a lot to ask," he said softly, "But I think we shall have to move in prematurely to another building where I have been offered as Order headquarters. The Fidelius Charm has already been placed upon it with me as its Secret Keeper."

"What building is it?" Arthur asked, coming over to read the paper.

"A house of an Order member," Albus explained. "I will explain more thoroughly when we are all congregated there."

Later that night, while the Weasley children were sleeping, Albus took Molly, Arthur, and Bill to Grimmauld Place for their first meeting. They would talk more about moving in tomorrow.

Most of the Order was indeed already gathered there. Albus looked up from pacing placidly before the fireplace in the dark kitchen. Arthur and Molly Weasley both sat at the table, across from Dedalus Diggle and Emmaline Vance. Bill was at the sideboard, watching them all, as his dear old friend Elphias Doge was humming softly to himself. Hestia Jones was looking around the room, as Alastor took his seat at the corner of the room—and Albus was glad to see that he didn't seem as nervous as he had been during the last week of school.

Alastor had brought with him two Aurors. The first was a young witch with violet hair and heart-shaped face that could only be Nymphodora Tonks. He remembered her fondly from school, and he had heard Alastor talk about her once or twice while he was training young Aurors… meaning that she must be highly skilled…

The second man that Alastor brought was Kingsley Shacklebolt who stood tall and solid, with rich dark-chocolate skin. He wore a silver hoop in his right ear and no hair on his head, and overall cut a striking figure—almost like a rock that stood tall against the raging tides. As he went to take his seat at the table, he saw that Remus was giving Kingsley a wary look. And he knew it was because he was in charge of looking for Sirius—who was still in his dog form underneath the table—and was trying to act as much like a dog as possible.

Once everyone was seated, Albus came forward, and began the meeting by telling the guests the entire story of how Voldemort had struck when they least expected it during the end of the Triwizard Tournament and has now returned to power. As well as telling how Cedric Diggory truly died, and how Harry Potter had narrowly escaped with his life.

He then spoke of Fudge's refusal to believe the truth and the danger he was now leading the whole wizarding world into. The rest of the table was silent as he spoke; no one spoke a word, just horror-struck at what they were hearing.

Several of them had initially wanted to think that Voldemort was gone for good, but when he mentioned Fudge's behavior—his ever growing paranoia, they all admitted that he seemed willing to do anything to hide something.

He also told them about smear campaign directed at, both himself and against Harry. By reminding them all, that the Ministry and the Daily Prophet had sung a different tune in previous years—but now that Harry was saying something they didn't like, they had turned on him, thinking that he could be discredited because he was young.

"Although," Kingsley said slowly, "He was Confuded by Sirius Black into ranting that Black was innocent. No telling what _he_ could have planted in Potter's mind."

The black dog gave a snort, from underneath the table and Albus looked at them all, knowing that they needed to hear the real truth.

"That is because Sirius's case never came to trial," he told them all. "On the surface, it seemed too clear-cut that no one had bothered. Even I had thought that Sirius had committed those acts. However, over a year ago, Harry and his friends helped to fill in all the blanks. Because the case was never taken to court, no one ever found out that an innocent man was sentence to twelve years in Azkaban."

They all gasped at the news, except for Molly, who was glancing anxiously at the dog, though she didn't say a word.

He then went on before they started asking questions, "The story Harry and his friends told does not contradict any of the evidence, and it also matches precisely with the account Sirius himself gave me the night he was briefly recaptured."

"And you believe a murderer?" Kingsley demanded. "There were eye witnesses who saw him kill a whole street of people! And the notions I've heard of those kids claiming that Peter Pettigrew having lived twelve years as a rat with a missing toe is far-fetched."

"Far-fetched, but not impossible, and in my years I have seen many far-fetched stories turn out to be true," Albus said calmly. "Perhaps Sirius could have offered evidence to prove his claim. When we held our own Inquisition, we threw away the chance to ever know."

"I find that hard to believe," Kingsley said, though his eyes were narrowed thoughtfully. He looked to Remus, "And I heard that you were once one of Sirius's Black's close friend?"

Remus nodded firmly. "Yes," he answered. "And I only recently managed to befriend Sirius again after I learned the truth."

When they all stared at him, and he went on at once, "I was there that night. He told me everything, and I have to say that it explained a great deal more than I ever thought possible. The Sirius Black I first knew, never would've betrayed his friends or join with Voldemort—" several people flinched at the name but he kept going, "So when I heard of what he had done, I thought that it had been a mistake at first. And I am sorry that I never did a thing about it."

He sighed, and Albus could see Sirius looking up at him sadly.

"But my dear friend is innocent," he went on. "And I will stand by that, whatever anyone else here says."

"And you are that werewolf teacher that we heard so much about?" Hestia asked.

Remus blanched slightly, but he muttered, "Yes. I am… ah… I have lycanthropy, yes."

"Professor Lupin," Kingsley said, nodding, "I remember now… I've heard quite a bit about you; all the reliable things have been good."

Nymphadora leaned across the table to look him in the eyes, with bright-eyed curiosity. Her eyes were rather like those of a child looking at an exotic creature in a zoo, but he didn't take offense, and indeed when she ducked to the side to try to see his profile, he obligingly turned his head. "That's kinda cool," she said.

Albus smiled slightly at the startled look on Remus's face, but he then stepped forward, beckoning, Sirius to come forward and stand next to him. "This," he said to everyone, "Is none other than Sirius Black."

Tonks whipped around to stare at him. Kingsley started back in disbelief, but for only a moment before Emmaline cried out, "You're joking!"

"No," he said serenely, "I am being completely serious about this. It's all true. Sirius Black is an unregistered Animagus, as was James Potter and as _is_ Peter Pettigrew. But Sirius was never in league with Voldemort—" more shuddering "—and was not the Potters' Secret-Keeper. About a week before the night that the Potter's were killed, Sirius and Pettigrew, or Wormtail as is his nickname, switched places at the last moment. This was done to try and misdirect Voldemort. As we all know, at the time, we got wind that there was a spy within the Order who had been passing information to the Death Eaters for about a year already. And the truth is it was Peter Pettigrew… not Sirius."

"But he still killed all those Muggles, as well as Pettigrew," Kingsley pointed out at once, but Albus kept shaking his head.

"No," he told him regretfully. "After the Potters' deaths, it was Sirius, not Peter, who went after the other mad with grief, and it was Peter who caused an explosion and killed those innocent Muggle bystanders. He cut off his finger and escaped as a rat, leaving Sirius to take the blame. And we never bothered to discover the truth."

They all sat there, dumbstruck for a second, but Tonks asked, "How do you know this?"

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger will all be evidence of having seen Pettigrew the night Sirius was captured at Hogwarts," he said, and the Weasleys looked up at him, startled.

"As will Professor Lupin," Albus said. "Unfortunately, Pettigrew escaped, and the word of three students and a werewolf weren't enough proof to the Ministry and they didn't hesitate for a moment to sentence Sirius to the dementor's kiss without a second thought had he not escaped himself."

"Mum always said she could never imagine Cousin Sirius as a Death Eater," Tonks offered.

"You're related to him?" Emmaline asked in surprise.

"Yep," she said brightly, now looking at the dog with great interest. "And she could never understand why her favorite cousin would go over to the dark side like that."

"What about him?" Kingsley asked slowly, motioning to the dog at his feet. Sirius looked over at him as if annoyed. "If I'm going to believe that this is Sirius Black, I need to be able to recognize him."

"He can resume his human form if it's safe for him to do so," Albus stated.

Kingsley said in his deep voice, "If he is innocent, he has nothing to fear from me."

Albus looked at him carefully, but he couldn't see any doubt in his expression—it was curiosity. "Very well," he said and looked down to Sirius, "Sirius? If you would be so kind as to join us?"

The dog looked up at him before he transformed back into Sirius Black as they would have expected to see him, tall and thin with unkempt black hair and a dark robe. Emmaline jumped a little, but by the look on her face, she was already seeing the hollows around his eyes in a new light.

"Sirius Black?" Kingsley asked calmly and Sirius nodded to him.

"Wow, Cousin Sirius!" Tonks exclaimed getting up to shake his hand. "I don't know if you remember me do? The little girl that you used to babysit and said that I was a four-year-old bundle of terror?"

Sirius blinked before he gave her a rather wicked grin. "Course I do," he said hoarsely. "You used to drive me up the wall."

Albus smiled and then went on with the story. "I know that this is hard to believe, but the truth is that Sirius is innocent and he wants to help with the Order. I will vouch for it myself."

They were all still looking at Sirius warily, but not as if they still thought that he was a murderer. Albus then went on with the most important part that they needed to discuss.

"We have a spy who is believed to be a trusted servant of Voldemort," he said. "And thanks to him, as well as the information that Harry had been able to give me, we know what Voldemort is after. We have the names of several Death Eaters who had returned to him the night that he returned. Voldemort is planning on building his army back up again before he comes out into the open. He wishes to become as strong as possible before he lets us all know that he is back."

"What are they?" Kingsley asked at once, and Albus as pleased to see that he was already taking mental notes.

"That he is planning on gathering the dementors of Azkaban," he answered. "Now, I did warn Cornelius that he must remove the dementors from the prison, but of course he refuses to do so. This will surly led to a break-out along the road. _When_ this will be, I cannot answer, but it will only be a matter of time before they join Voldemort. As we all know, dementors don't show loyalty. Fudge may convince himself that they would never betray him, but he is setting things up so that he is placing Voldemort's most loyal supporters under the control of creatures who will join Voldemort as soon as he asks them."

"Oh, great!" Alastor barked. "All that trouble to put them in there in the first place and now they're going to be breaking out again. Just my luck…"

Albus gave him an apologetic look before he turned back to the rest of them. "And we also know that he is also planning on sending Death Eaters to take into service the giants as well. Now, I have some good friends who are already on the way north to try and convince them to join our side, but we cannot get our hopes up just yet."

"So what do we do?" Arthur asked.

"I have several ideas," Albus assured him. "However, there is something that I must tell you all. Thanks to our spy, I know that there is one more thing besides his army that Voldemort is planning on obtaining. Something that is currently in the Department of Mysteries."

They all stared at each other, wondering what on earth he was about to tell them. Albus had been dreading this… even if Severus hadn't told him, Albus knew that Tom wouldn't want to try and rush things as he did during the first war. He would want to know the full prophecy… the reason he was temporary defeated was because he only heard the beginning… and especially with how Harry humiliated him in front of all his Death Eaters, Tom would surly want to hear the full contents of it.

"I am going to tell you all something," he said slowly. "Something that only a handful of people know. Before Voldemort fell, a prophecy had been made… a prophecy foretelling of Voldemort's defeat."

"A prophecy?" Bill repeated almost in awe.

Albus nodded. "A prophecy that has to do with Voldemort… and Harry Potter."

Stunned silence filled the room. Sirius, Remus, and the three Weasleys were all staring at him with mixtures of shock and horror. Albus sighed and went on, "Shortly before Harry was born, this prophecy had been made… Voldemort knew that this existed, however, he only knows the first part. The reason that he was defeated for so long was because he set out to kill Harry Potter that night… believing that he was putting a stop to it. But as he only knew a small part of it, he made a grave mistake, thus resulting in his downfall for thirteen years."

He took a deep breath and finished by saying, "The record of the prophecy is being kept where all prophecies are… the Hall of Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries."

"So…" Arthur said slowly, "He's planning on getting it and hearing all of it?"

Albus nodded.

"But you seem to be awfully aware of what it says," Sirius said through narrow eyes.

Albus gave him a sad look and admitted, "Because I was the one whom it was made to when the Seer predicted it."

They stared at him and he went on, "I am the only person who knows the full contents of the prophecy and I have never told another soul about it… not even Harry knows it's existence. The point is, Voldemort is afraid of Harry."

"Afraid of him?" Hestia repeated startled.

"Yes," Albus admitted. "Harry has already faced Lord Voldemort, not once, but four times including his escape from him last year."

They gasped at the news, knowing that most full-grown wizards were usually killed when faced to face with Voldemort, but a child escaping so many times…?

"Which is why Voldemort doesn't plan on moving out into the open without knowing everything," Albus told them. "While I can't tell you all what the prophecy says—not that I don't trust you—" he added when he saw several of them raise their eyebrows.

"But the fact is, the less people who know the truth, the less chances that the words will make it back to Voldemort," Albus finished. "Now… for those of you who don't know, the records that are being kept in the Ministry are made so that only the people they refer to can lift them from their shelves. Anyone else will suffer madness. So, in other words, the only people who would be able to pick it up are either Harry Potter or Voldemort."

"So, there's nothing to worry about," Tonks asked. "I mean… if he's not planning on showing himself to the Ministry until he gets it, but is one of only two people who can get it… then…"

"That's the kind of thing I expect a kid to say," Alastor grunted.

She turned to him furiously and snapped, "I'm not a kid!"

"Oh, use your head, Nymphadora," he told her grumpily.

Tonks looked furious, but Albus broke them off by saying, "We must not assume anything. There is always a chance that he will find a way to get around it. And if he gets his hands on it, then it could lead to Harry's death…"

Those who knew Harry personally looked up at him in terror. "Which is why we mustn't ever let him hear it. We must keep guard over it, as well as young Mr. Potter…"

And he went on. He went on discussing the Order's plans, they talked for hours, until it was very late. For their benefit, Arthur repeated what he'd been saying, that he now felt quite positive about Hestia Jones, a witch who worked in the Ministry's Owlery and Mailroom—a humble job, but one that gave her a strategic view into who was in contact with whom.

Various other topics were addressed: Albus gave a status report of the word he was getting from Hagrid and Madame Maxime. Guard duty at the Department of Mysteries was also discussed and it was Remus who offered to take watch tomorrow night.

"What about Harry anyway?" Sirius asked.

There was a long pause; Molly turned toward him with an almost pleading expression. Albus could almost feel Alastor's eye on him as he looked at Sirius.

"Under the circumstances..." Albus said slowly, "And now that Voldemort has returned, I think that we can all agree that Harry's safety is our first priority. The most certain way to ensure that would be for him to stay at his aunt and uncle's house. As long as he's with his Aunt, he's with his mother's blood, the blood will give him the best protection that we can offer. The magic that protected Harry from Voldemort back then is present wherever Lily's blood is, including in his aunt…"

Sirius was continuing to give him a menacing look, but he didn't say anything. After that, they finished up the meeting, and most people were leaving, obviously already planning on getting to work as soon as the sun rose tomorrow. He smiled gratefully as he watched them leave. There were many other wizards that would come tomorrow night, and he knew that he would have to repeat it, but this was a good start. They needed to get to work as soon as possible.

The Weasleys all said goodbye, saying that they would be here as soon as Hermione arrived from her home because she was spending the summer with them. He nodded to them all and saw them off before he turned to Remus and Sirius—who continued to look miserable.

"Look, I know I'm a wanted criminal and it's unsafe for me to go out but there are ways that I could do something useful," Sirius said. "I mean… I can turn into a dog for crying out loud!"

Albus gave him a sad look. "Sirius, I know that this is hard for someone like you, but Wormtail surly would've told Voldemort and the others about you by now."

Sirius thought that over before he cursed loudly. "Well, even if my big disguise is useless, there still Polyjuice Potion, charms that can change my appearance… I won't use the same face every time!"

Albus raised his hand for silence and Sirius stopped talking immediately.

"Do you really think I haven't considered these options?" he asked sadly.

"Then why -" Sirius began, and Remus was looking at them both anxiously.

"Haven't you considered that all the member's lives are in danger when they go on Order business? That there might be some reason why I wanted to keep you safe?" he asked him. When Sirius didn't say a word, he sighed.

"Sirius," he said carefully, "I am keeping you safe simply because Harry needs you to remain safe, alive and out of Azkaban."

"Don't bring my godson into this," Sirius said warningly. "He doesn't have anything to do with the fact that you don't want me to leave."

"He has everything to do with it," Albus told him as if it was obvious. "Harry needs you, Sirius. He will need you to help him get through this war. Harry is going to have a tough year, the toughest he's had yet and I cannot help him. In fact, I will have to distance myself from him, which will him feel abandoned and alone."

"Why?" Remus asked at once. "You were always so fond of him… always spoke so highly of his abilities."

Albus gave him a sad look. "I am. But the truth is… and I didn't tell the rest of them this… but there is a connection between Harry and Voldemort… one that has surly gotten stronger since the end of the tournament."

"What do you mean by a connection?" Sirius demanded.

"I mean, that there's no telling what Voldemort will be able to do to Harry even when he's far away," Albus said softly. "I don't know just how strong this connection is… but there's a chance that Voldemort might be able to use this."

"What do you…?" Sirius began but Albus explained, his voice growing hoarse from all the talking.

"When I first saw the scar on his forehead, I guessed what it could've meant… I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between the two of them. For it became apparent to me right away that Harry's scar was able to warn him whenever Voldemort was close to him. And just last year, he started having those dreams…"

"Dreams?" Remus repeated but Sirius shook his hand down at him.

"Harry was able to see into Voldemort's mind through his dreams," Albus said softly and Remus stared at him. "Of course, Harry has no idea… and has little, if any, control over it. This ability to be able to sense him no matter where he is, and to know what he's feeling has obviously become more and more pronounced since Voldemort returned to his own body and his full powers. But now, I am concerned that Voldemort might be able to use this…"

"Use it how?" Sirius asked, his face growing paler by the second.

"He doesn't know about it yet," Albus told him. "But if he should ever discover it, there is a chance that Voldemort could try and use Harry to spy on me."

"Spy on you?" Sirius repeated, now sounding like an echo.

"If Harry was able to see into Voldemort's mind by accident, then there's a chance that it could work the other way as well," he told him grimly. "Which is why I can't allow myself to get to close to him. If I treat him as any other student, then Voldemort will be less tempted… and Harry will be more protected. You see?"

The two men stared at him and he said, "I'm not any happier about this than either of you. But it's for Harry's safety. At the moment, Voldemort doesn't know about it, and I intend to keep it that way. But what I'm trying to say here, Sirius, is since I will no longer be able to be there for him. He will need someone to talk to, someone who understands what it is like to be belittled and hated… he will need someone to talk to other than Ron and Hermione. Quite apart from that, you are the only family Harry has and he would be devastated if he lost you."

Sirius gave him a long look, but Albus could see that his words had a big impact on him. "Sirius," he said gently. "He's lost so much that he loves already, Sirius, and I don't think I could stand it to see him lose anymore." He shook his head, "And I don't think he could stand it if he lost more than he already has."

Sirius just continued to just look at him darkly and he went on, "I'm sorry Sirius, I know you wanted to fight but—"

"Save it," Sirius grunted, throwing himself back into his chair. "Looks like you finally found a way to control me."

Albus gave him a soft look and bowed his head low before he finally left. But when he did, he thought back to what he was doing here. He knew that what he was doing to the boy was cruel…

Keeping him locked in that house for the rest of the summer was a terrible thing… but after all these years, a mere child had been forced to fight through life-threatening situations that would make a fully trained Auror fall apart and run. The same child that had been forced to risk his life over and over was the only chance the wizarding world had to survive. Harry Potter was only fourteen—almost fifteen, but if you were to look into his emerald eyes (so much like his mothers) you would see the quickly fading child innocence. Albus could see it… guilt, regret, betrayal, sorrow. They were all mingled into a mash of pain.

And the worst part was that he knew he had no one else to blame for that pain than himself… he had _allowed_ it to happen.

He put his hand up to his head in pain when, once again, his little sister's eyes flashed in his mind's eye. "I'm sorry," he muttered, wishing that Ariana's eyes didn't haunt him as they had for these years. He held up his Deluminator and allowed the light to return to the lampposts… and before they lit up again… he was gone.

*About Three Weeks Later*

Time had moved on surprisingly slowly for the next few weeks. To his delight however, they were steadily gaining more members and news of Voldemort's return was spreading. If only the Ministry would be willing to listen…

Arthur had been right, Fudge had been going around and firing anyone who had anything to do with him anymore. Albus didn't bother reading the Prophet anymore—unable to stand seeing what was written these days… of course, he could deal with any criticism… he was far too old to be bothered by it…

But this wasn't going to be easy for Harry.

He ran his hand through his hair, trying not to think of the child anymore than he had to. Of course, it had only been harder since his brief meeting with Arabella about a week ago.

_*Flashback*_

_He had gone to see how she was holding up at Privet Drive, and if there had been anything strange happening… as well as to check on how Harry had been doing._

_"Oh, it's nothing surprising…" Arabella sighed as she carried in a pot of tea. "Vernon and Petunia, well, they're no comfort to him at all, sir. The boy has been spending a great deal of time wandering around the streets, looking for any scrap of news. He's been losing his temper with his aunt and uncle… but I can't say they don't deserve it…"_

"_And I can't say I'm surprise," Albus said carefully._

"_And of course, he still doesn't know about me," she told him, putting the tray on the coffee table. "You know, I've been trying to ask him over for tea several time, but he's been avoiding me. Can't blame him for that; I always had to make a nuisance of myself before. Vernon and Petunia never would've let him come over if they thought he enjoyed my company. Do you honestly think that he's truly safer here?"_

"_Yes," Albus said at once._

"_Well, that makes one of us," she said picking a spot on her chin. _

"_It's the best place for him," Albus said firmly._

"_For who I wonder," she asked. "I can understand that this place is safe for the boy… but blood without love is thinner than water in my opinion. Vernon and Dudley are simply awful to him. I can't say Petunia has turned her back totally on the fact that he's her sister's child, but she acts every bit as bad. I truly wonder sometimes, Albus."_

_He looked to her and asked the question that had been tormenting his thoughts for a long time. "Has there been any signs of—abuse there?"_

_She shrugged. "I cannot say. They definitely neglect the child; half starved him plenty of times and I remember seeing him doing more chores than all of them put together. But as far as I know they've never outright abused him. Unless you count that oaf Dudley." Her tone was that of true disgust. "And he's always been a horrid child. His parents are just blind to how horrible he is and they aren't doing him any favors by not doing anything about it. But I've never seen Petunia or Vernon harm him as what you're suggesting… if they do, they hide it well."_

_*End of Flashback*_

Albus felt that he was slowly losing his mind with everything on his plate. He rarely went back Hogwarts these days, having been forced to run around and trying to get the Ministry to grow up. Getting back to his office for some quiet was a rare treat.

He paid occasional visits to Grimmauld place for meetings as well, which he was starting to dread. Every time that he came, Sirius would ask when Harry would be allowed to come here.

"Sirius, I thought that had been discussed, we had agreed that keeping him with his mother's relations was best," he said wearily.

"He would be safe here," Sirius hissed back to him.

"Sirius, we can't put all of our proverbial eggs in one proverbial basket," he told him. "The safest place for him is still the most important issue."

This was often how they ended their arguments.

It might've been unfair, but he couldn't risk Harry knowing too much, you must make sacrifices to be a leader; and it was needed for him to distance himself… no matter how badly he felt.

But so far, the worst part was telling Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley that they must swear not to tell Harry anything about what they hear in Headquarters in their letters, which they weren't allowed to send too many.

It was agonizing to look into their young faces, and see the utter confusion and trepidation. And it even felt like a punch in the gut when young Ron said, "But sir, how can you not tell Harry? He was there he fought You-Know-Who, and he watched Diggory die. It'll kill him, not knowing what's going on."

"You don't know how reckless he can be," Hermione whimpered. "He'll do something stupid and careless if he's stuck there not knowing what's going on! I know it!"

Oh, Albus already knew… to be honest, that part of him reminded Albus a great deal of Aberforth when he was young. Sitting and waiting for news that might never come would've driven him to the brink of insanity. And he knew Harry would react even worse. The boy had a temper brought out only in extreme instances…

At first the two kept refusing, but when he told them it would help Harry in the long run that's when they gave in. He had to keep explaining until finally, they both agreed, though Miss Granger looked ready to cry by the end of it. And that was how it stayed for the last few weeks.

But his feelings were put to the challenge almost a month later…

He had been resting in his office chair, starting to doze off when the fireplace erupted. He looked up in time to see Kingsley sticking his head into the office. "Albus," he said hurriedly. "I don't have much time, but you need to know that there were dementors in Little Whinging less than ten minutes ago! They must've attacked Harry and his cousin."

Albus stood up, feeling close to panicking—his heart was racing painfully. "Are they-?"

"The Ministry is running around here," he went on hurried. "Fudge is thrilled… he's talking about expelling him!"

"But if there were dementors," Albus pressed on forcefully.

"No one knows what's happened," he told him. "All that anyone knows for sure is that the Patronus Charm had been cast by an underaged wizard in Little Whinging! But why else would he use that charm unless there were dementors?"

Albus stared. He knew that Harry should've been able to drive them off… but if his cousin had been there… and if Dudley Dursley was in as bad as shape as he thought, and then there was a good chance the Petunia might realize how dangerous it is to have Harry there. He got up. "I'll deal with this. I'll be there in just a few minutes. But who was supposed to be on guard tonight?! This shouldn't have happened unless someone left their post!"

"I think it was Dung," he said. "Listen, I've got to get back, Dumbledore. I'm using this fireplace in one of the offices and if I'm caught…"

"Then go," he said quickly. "I'll be there in a minute to sort this out. And I'll deal with Mundungus myself when I see him next.

Kingsley disappeared and Albus summoned some Howler paper. He had to send the message to Petunia. He had to let her know that Harry cannot leave the house again. He called to Fawkes, who took flight and flew to him—he had to put a stop to this before the Ministry blunders ruin anymore lives.

**(Done with the first chapter of the fifth year! How's it going so far? Hope that you're all looking forward to any future chapters. And this Thursday is my birthday! I can't wait! As for the next chapter, we see him deal with Mundungus! Anyone have any predictions to what'll happen? Hope the hear some of them, and I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.)**


	47. An Old Man's Resolve

**Chapter 46: An Old Man's Resolve**

Anyone near Grimmauld place that night would've thought that there was some kind of battle going on inside. And if not for all the protection wards they put up around it, the neighbors would've surly heard everything that was going on.

All night it had gone into a kinda war with Molly and Sirius actually working together to give Mundungus a piece of their minds—they might've cursed him to within an inch of his life if the other Order members didn't take their wands—though they too were furious. But it wasn't until late, and it was pitch black outside, when Dumbledore finally arrived. He had spent most of the night at the Ministry, trying to prevent anyone from expelling Harry. And when he found Mundungus there, he waited for him to stutter out an explanation to where he was tonight.

"N-now," Mundungus stuttered fearfully as Albus stood over him. "I-if I k-k-kn-knew that D-Deme-dementors wou-would've attacked the b-boy, I ne-never would've left! B-but you see…"

"You mean to tell me," Albus said slowly and carefully, his voice as cold as ice as anger and power seemed to flow out of him. He stood over Mundungus, who shrank back, as if hoping that he could just disappear into the floor. "That you left your post for some old cauldrons?!"

"Now, I k-know it lo-looks bad," he stuttered, practically curled into a fetal position.

But Albus didn't want to hear anymore. He spoke, his voice louder than usual, though not a shout, and his expression terrifying—anyone looking at Albus at that moment could feel it… the sudden drop in temperature that sent shivers down your spine and that feeling of suppressed rage that was so thick in the air you could feel it.

"Don't you realize what you've done tonight, Mundungus Fletcher?" he asked him, his voice dangerous and frightening as Mundungus coward in his seat.

"You've put my student in terrible danger, you've abandoned a post set to you by the Order, and you've lost any of my trust you may have had in the past. You are just lucky that no one was hurt or else you wouldn't have lived to regret it. Now leave here," he said menacingly. He watched with some satisfaction as Mundungus practically crawled across the floor as he fled the kitchen. He stopped to take several deep breaths, not even noticing Ron and Hermione staring transfixed at him from the hall.

'_Your temper,'_ he told himself as he left the house after that. _'You need to keep it under control… you don't know what could happen if you don't…'_

It had been a long time since he let his anger out like that, but when he heard what almost happened this night scared him so badly…

He ducked down behind an alley and put his hand up to hide his eyes as he took steadying breaths.

He thought back to that terrified, shell-shocked boy who sat in his office mere weeks ago after the Third Task. Harry sat in his office with Sirius and told him of Voldemort's return. He remembered how he was shaking and how his eyes gazed blankly at nothing in particular, the image of what could've happened to that same boy tonight flashed vividly before his eyes.

That could've been Harry tonight.

At that moment, Albus felt true terror course through him, turning his blood ice cold. _'No!'_ he thought firmly, shaking his head almost violently. He always swore that he would never let his guard down again… not after what happened with Arianna…

Even though he hadn't even seen Harry since he departed from Hogwarts a month ago, but thinking back, it was almost painful to look at him, even in the aftermath of the Third Task. Every time he looked now, he saw both himself, and his little sister… it was terrifying to him… sometimes he expected the green eyes to turn to that same bright blue that Ariana had.

To him… he wasn't sure which was more torturous to him… seeing a shadow of Ariana in those eyes, or the chance that Voldemort might be looking out instead.

Dementors showing up at Privet Drive were only the tip of the iceberg in the mess that came up. Before he arrived at the Ministry, he sent the Howler to Petunia Dursley, reminding her of what she promised to do, to keep Harry inside the house for his safety. Judging how Harry hadn't left the house since then, and no other signs of magic, he could only conclude that it worked. He was just lucky the boy knew how to repel the monsters or they would not even have a wizard to go and rescue.

After arguing with Fudge for what felt like hours, he finally managed to get Harry a trial and the weight on his shoulders lessened a little; and letting some of that bottled-up anger out on Mundungus made him feel so much better. Once he was done with Fudge, he returned to Headquarters and let his anger out on the person who was supposed to be watching Harry. Sirius, Molly, and Remus were just as mad, they were about to curse him when he told them that he would handle it. Hopefully now, Mundungus would think twice about a business deal again.

Still breathing hard, he turned and left, feeling older than he had in years.

Over the next few days, plans were being made to pick Harry up and to bring him here for the remainder of the holidays and almost everyone in the Order wanted to be there to get him. Albus wanted to go there as well, but he had to keep reminding himself that had to stay away from him.

After three days, Albus saw Alastor off, entrusting with him the parchment, telling were the Headquarters for the Order was, and his own Deluminator for added measure… however, he couldn't help but lament the fact that it was all he could do.

Once they left, he briefly returned to Hogwarts finishing up work, now anxious that he couldn't find anyone other than Severus to take the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Nevertheless, he would worry about that later.

He returned to Grimmauld Place later that evening for, yet another, meeting.

"I've been keeping guard all night, Dumbledore," Arthur explained as they looked over a map of the Department of Mysteries. "But so far nothing's happened. The only people who came through the door are Unspeakables. And even if they were Death Eaters in disguise, they wouldn't be able to take the Prophecy now would they?"

"Yes," Albus nodded. "I wouldn't have expected Voldemort to try and take it this early, but I rather not take any chances."

"I'd be more than happy to take guard duty tomorrow night," Sirius offered as Severus snorted from the other end of the table.

Albus looked over at him, and said, "Sirius…"

"Just thought I'd offer," Sirius snapped, leaning back in his chair irritably.

Albus was really beginning to dread these meetings, but hopefully when Harry is here, Sirius will calm down slightly. So, at the moment, he looked up to Bill Weasley and asked, "How are the Goblins taking to the idea of joining us?"

Bill shrugged. "They're still not too keen on the idea of joining forces with Wizards," he confessed. "Though that's not surprising. They aren't that fond of us at the moment…"

"And what about Hagrid?" Molly interrupted worriedly. "It's been a month, but you haven't heard from him or Madame Maxime all that time?"

"Oh, I know that they are more than capable of taking care of themselves," Albus answered with a slight bow of his head. "And we can't expect them to convince the giants to come and fight with us overnight, especially with how the Ministry has treated them. These things take time."

It was at that moment, they heard something at the front door. Molly, who was closest to the door, got up and went to go and answer it. A moment later, Alastor, Remus, Dora, and all the others of the guard had entered the room, all of them looking half-frozen.

"What happened to all of you?" Sirius asked, his eyebrows raised, as Remus took out his wand to perform a Warming Charm.

"Ask Alastor," he answered as graciously as always when Alastor shoved past him and took a chair near the end of the table.

"Don't know why you all are looking at me," he said grumpily as Tonks rolled her eyes. "And I can see when you do that you know!"

"Yeah," Tonks said annoyed. "But if we kept going like you wanted to, we all would've frozen to death before we got here!"

"How did it go?" Albus asked her.

"Could've been better," she muttered, now trying to get the strands of ice out of her hair. "What a night. Flying in the air in the freezing cold in the pitch dark! It was madness! Perfect for Mad-Eye then now that you think about it."

Alastor's magical eye fixed itself on her threateningly as she went on bitterly, "The only way it could've been worse is if it started hailing out there."

"But you all made it here in one piece?" Albus asked her.

"Oh, yeah," she said, sitting down next to Remus, after tripping over her chair, "Nothing life-threatening happened if that's what you're asking. Molly's showing him upstairs."

At her words, Sirius was looking to the door anxiously and Albus knew that he wanted to go and see him, so he decided that they would try to end this meeting so that he could. He could understand—when they told him that Harry got here safely and without incident he couldn't help but give a sigh of relief at those words.

"So what do we tell the kid?" Sirius asked him gruffly, not looking away from the door until Molly came back in.

Albus gave him a dark look, already telling him what he thought of that. "We can't tell him more than he needs to know, Sirius."

"And what do you mean by that?" Sirius asked coolly as Molly took her seat with her husband, looking at them both worriedly.

"I mean, anything about the Order," Albus answered calmly. "We've talked about this before."

"Why not?" Sirius asked darkly, the rest of the Order was now watching the two of them anxiously. "I mean, if I found out that I was being watched 24/7 and that everyone else knew about it but me, I'd be pretty upset and want to know why. I mean, don't you think that he deserves to know why?"

"They're children," Molly hissed at him. "They shouldn't have to be dealing with anything like this before they've even left school!"

"Why not?" Sirius asked. "They're gonna find out sooner or later. Voldemort—" flinches and shudders went around the table but he ignored them, "—isn't going to be hiding forever now is he? And let's not forget that Harry was the one who saw him come back! I think that if there's anyone here that needs to know what's happening…"

"And would you want to tell him what I told you about the prophecy?" Albus asked him calmly, taking great care not to look at Severus as he said those words. Sirius stopped talking at once, as if he had been struck.

Albus hated to use such a low-handed tactic, but he had to keep all of this secret from Harry. And if he knew Sirius as well as he thought that he did, then he would never want to be the one to tell him what was hidden at the Department of Mysteries. He sighed and explained, "I know that this is unfair to Harry, Sirius. But it's too dangerous now to tell him."

"So… what?" Sirius demanded. "That's it? What am I supposed to tell him? You honestly think that he's not going to bother asking any of us what's happening? Fifty galleons say that he's questioning the others upstairs right now."

"Fair enough," Alastor smirked, obviously comfortable and Albus knew that Alastor thought that a successful meeting never happened unless there was conflict and arguing. But Albus didn't even look at him as he gave Sirius a firm look. "It's up to all of you to decide what to tell Harry and the others. But…" he added firmly, "You can't tell him more than he needs to know."

Not long after that, the meeting ended and he quickly left, not wanting to risk running into Harry. He was quite glad to get back to his office and relax. At least until…

"Why are you making me watch my own house?" demanded an annoyed voice on his right.

Albus sighed as he looked up. "Evening Phineas."

"It's bad enough that my worthless great-great grandson is back in the house that he's unworthy of inheriting, but you're making me watch Potter there as well?" he asked.

"Please," Dilys called exasperated. "You haven't watched him since second year when you broadcast to the whole school that there was an attack."

"Why do you ask, Phineas?" Albus asked tiredly, feeling old, "Is something happening?"

"Well, they told the boy some things," he answered with a shrug as if it wasn't worth telling about.

"I thought as much," Albus said. "So long as they didn't tell him to much…"

"Mrs. Weasley and my great-great grandson had this huge row," he said grinning, obviously enjoying it. "I could hear them arguing from the hall."

"About exactly what to tell him?" Albus asked knowingly.

"They didn't tell him much to be honest," Phineas said in a drawling voice. "Just that you're looking for new members, and my worthless great-great grandson let slip about the weapon."

Albus looked up sharply. "He mentioned the prophecy?" he asked at once.

"Well, he didn't come right out and say what it was," Phineas yawned as if bored. "Just that there was a weapon that both sides are trying hard to get their hands on."

Albus groaned, taking off his glasses and rubbing his tired eyes.

"But seriously," Phineas went on. "You think that boy would show more gratitude. Heard him yelling at his friends from my other portrait. He sure isn't happy with you, I can tell you that."

Albus sighed, "He was angry then?"

"Well, the yelling kinda clued me in," Phineas said grinning at him. "For some reason, he didn't seem happy with your protection."

"I expected no less," Albus said grimly. "So he now knows for certain?"

"That everyone else knew that he was being watch except him?" Phineas asked him. "Yep. But instead of being grateful, he was furious with you. Honestly, the way he was yelling, it almost made me go deaf." As if to prove his point, he stuck a finger in his ear to clean it out. As he did he went on, "Youth, always thinking that they can look after themselves when they really have no clue. Said that he was glad that Dung left, because you would've left him there all summer. He's got you down to a T."

Albus tried hard not to listen, but it was very difficult. Phineas seemed unusually pleased to tell him everything.

"But still," Phineas went on. "The way he was yelling—I'm surprised that you all couldn't hear him. So angry with his young friends—thinking that they were holding out on him. Like they would know what was going on…"

"Not that they would be able to tell him much anyway," Albus sighed, knowing that was his fault for keeping him in the dark as well.

"Really though, he sounded like a child the way he was yelling," Phineas said. "He went on and on about fighting dragons and everything else that happened last year, and he was stuck without news. Really, don't know why he was so upset."

"Phineas," Albus said wearily.

"Your name came up as well," Phineas said happily. "Not in a flattering way."

"If that's the worst I get then I'll be a happy camper," he said firmly.

"Your Order members might want to be more careful though," he went on. "Those brats had been eavesdropping on your meetings. They heard about your guard duty but don't have the slightest idea what it is."

"How?" Albus asked.

"Those ear things those two monsters invented," he answered.

"Ah," Albus said simply, having heard about the Extendable Ears that the twins created and how Molly had been set on destroying them. He flipped open the evening copy of the Prophet—not at all surprised to see that there wasn't a word about the Dementors attacking Harry.

"Anymore rubbish in there?" Dexter asked sarcastically before holding up his hands and said dramatically, "Let me guess: The Boy-Who-Lies will be expelled before his trial even begins?"

"Someone's told them to keep that quiet," Albus answered bitterly. "I can't deny that a party of me thought that they would. After everything else they wrote to make him… Well, I see that they want to wait until they think that they've got him expelled."

"Not that you're going to let them?" Everard asked shrewdly.

Before he could answer, he heard Phineas muttered furiously, "Do they have to talk so loudly?"

"Who?" Albus asked politely.

"Potter and Weasley," he answered grumpily. "They're talking and—oh, great! Now the twins are there. They're talking about the weapon."

"And what do they think?" Albus asked.

"Just trying to figure out where it is," he said. "They think that you're keeping it."

Albus chuckled. "If it were up to me, I'd have destroyed it myself. But it's safe were it is at the moment."

He turned over the paper, and saw with mild surprise about the advertisements for the Weasley's mail-order service at the moment. He had a sneaking feeling that Molly didn't know, and made a mental note to forget about it.

_*A couple weeks later*_

For the next few weeks, he avoided Grimmauld Place like a plague; only going there for two Order meetings in the evenings and always left quickly. But on the night before the Hearing, he had to drop by to see Sirius—who had been asking him if he could go to the Ministry as Padfoot to be there for Harry. But he had to put a stop to it.

"Why not?" Sirius demanded with a cold voice. "You mean I can't even be there to support my own godson?"

"Sirius," Albus sighed, trying to explain once again why this was a terrible idea. Some of the Order members were already in the kitchen talking and he was out in the hallway with Sirius. "First of all, the Ministry won't just let a giant dog go walking through the front doors. And even if they did, you're surrounded by countless people who think that you're a mass-murderer."

"Yeah, but they don't know that I'm an Animagus now do they?" Sirius challenged him.

"You are forgetting that Lucius and other Death Eaters will be there," Albus sighed exasperated. "And they surly know. Wormtail would've told them everything. Sirius, I know that this is difficult for you, but please… you mustn't go."

"And what if he's expelled?" he asked at once. "What will happen? If Fudge had his way, he'd probably have sent Harry to the Closed Ward at St. Mungo's before now! And I don't want him going back to Privet Drive! Look what happened last time! Dementors! And you said that house was safe for him. Look, can he come and live with me if he's expelled?"

Albus could see that there was slight hope in Sirius's face at that. While he knew that Sirius didn't want Harry expelled, the idea that his godson would be able to live here with him full time was something that he desperately wanted.

Albus gave him a sad look. "I won't let them expel him."

Molly, who had just come down from downstairs, looked started to see them there.

"Sirius, it's not safe for you to go," Albus said hurriedly. "If you're caught, then it would only make things more difficult for Harry now wouldn't it?"

Sirius stopped for a moment, though he was looking livid.

"Sirius," he said again, "I promise that I won't allow them to expel Harry. I will ensure that he will be cleared of all charges."

Sirius glared at him before he went slumping off in the direction of the kitchen.

"Dumbledore?" Molly asked him uncomfortably, coming down the last few steps to stand next to him.

"I know," Albus sighed at her. "He means well, but he's frustrated and he feels helpless here. I feel bad for keeping him locked in this house, but it's for his own good."

Molly shook her head, and he could clearly see that she was still hesitate about trusting Sirius. "It's bad enough that the children are constantly trying to eavesdrop on the meetings," she muttered. "But he's not helping to keep this all quiet."

"He's restless," Albus answered her before he glanced up to the upper levels. "Is everyone asleep?"

"Everyone who's still at school is," she said tiredly. "I just checked. I think that they're all worried about tomorrow and…" She stopped for a moment and asked, "Are you sure that Harry will be alright?"

Albus gave her a comforting smile. "I promise that he'll get off. The Ministry may be corrupted, and Fudge is willing to sink as low as possible to discredit Harry, but even he has to obey the law."

"You know as well as I do that he hasn't been following them lately," she said angrily.

"No, but this is a case of underage magic and it will be Amelia Bones who's judging him," Albus reminded her. "She's fair, and sure to understand the circumstances."

Though he didn't dare tell her that he had a bad feeling that Fudge will do something to try and make sure that doesn't happen. But he kept that quiet, knowing that he would take care of it tomorrow. She gave him a tiny smile as she went into the kitchen where everyone else was. He gave her a reassuring smile in return and turned to leave… or at least they thought he did.

He wanted so badly to see the boy, to assure Harry that it would be all right; that it was a case of using magic in defense and that he would surly get off.

But he knew that he couldn't. If he acted like Harry meant no more than any other student to him, then if Voldemort ever did discovered the connection between them, he would be discouraged to try and use against them. And so he pushed the boy away, ignored him in hopes it would deter Voldemort.

But he couldn't help himself as he slowly went upstairs to the room when he and Ron were asleep, just to see him that he was alright with his own eyes would be a welcomed relief. Once he found the right room, he opened the door, careful not to let it squeak, and stepped inside.

There was Harry, fast asleep. He lay with his back to the door, the blanket pulled up to just to his waist. He quietly approached, it was the first time he'd seen him since the leaving feast over a month ago.

His dark unruly hair lay across his pillow, he looked restless, and he was muttering slightly in his sleep as he buried his head deeper in the pillow. He could tell right away that he hadn't been getting much sleep—at least judging from the dark shadows underneath his eyes.

And very soon, if he hadn't figured it out by now, Harry would realize that he was ignoring him, and he would surly grow to hate him for it. But at least he was alive and safe…

Sighing, Albus gently pulled the blanket up a little higher to the boy's shoulder before he left the room and the house.

*The Next Day*

He had a sneaking suspicion that Fudge would pull something like this—which was why he decided to arrive three hours early. They were determined to try and keep him from helping him… but still… to sink this low?

Not only have they changed the time of the hearing three hours early and venue it so that it was now at eight and in Courtroom Ten. He couldn't believe that Fudge was this afraid of Harry that they would resort to his. They haven't used those old Courtrooms since the Death Eater trials. What do they think they're doing using it for Harry's 'underage magic' trial?

He shook his head in outrage. They're trying to make him look bad by making sure he's late… and most likely to intimidate them by putting him before the entire Wizengamot.

"Department of Mysteries," said the cool female voice once he left the lift and strolled down the dark and windowless hallway until he reached the plain black door set at the very end of the corridor.

To his relief, Arthur was already there, pacing back and forth restlessly.

When he heard him coming, Arthur looked up and seemed to be just as relieved to see him. "Dumbledore! They changed the time and—"

"I know," he answered. "It'll be ok."

He strolled passed him and through the door just in time for him to hear, "Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic…"

Albus shook his head; of course that man would make this about him. "Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley -"

"Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," he called out quietly, but still his voice still echoed across the room so that no one could miss it. As soon as he spoke, Harry, who was now sitting in the chair whose arms were covered in chains, turned back to look at him.

Albus was relieved to see that the chains weren't keeping him bounded there.

Doing his best not to look at Harry, he looked up to every single one of them, wearing their official Wizengamot robes, and all of them looking down their noses at them. Did they really have to go through all this to feel they were better than a fifteen-year-old?

All of them were muttering, all eyes on him now. Some looked annoyed that he had the nerve to show his face here. But two very dear friends, Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden were waving at him which he nodded politely in return and even managed a slight smile at them.

He then turned back to Fudge, who was looking taken aback—clearly thinking that he had outwitted him.

"Ah," said Fudge jerkily, now looking upset. "Dumbledore. Yes. You - er - got our – er - message that the time and -er - place of the hearing had been changed, then?"

"I must have missed it," he answered him cheerfully. "However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done."

Better to be early than late… especially when you're dealing with people like this.

He could see a muscle going in the Minister's temple, and his eye was actually twitching horribly, as though he was envisioning unpleasant things happening to him. "Yes - well - I suppose we'll need another chair - I - Weasley, could you -?"

"Not to worry, not to worry," he answered as pleasantly as he could before he took out his wand squashy chintz armchair appeared out of nowhere next to Harry. He sat down, put the tips of his long fingers together and surveyed Fudge with an expression he hoped was polite interest instead of smug know-it-all. The Wizengamot was still muttering and fidgeting restlessly and so he patiently waited until Fudge spoke again, shuffling his notes, obviously tense, "Yes, well, then. So. The charges. Yes."

He found a piece of parchment from the pile in front of him, and read out, "The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offence under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy."

Albus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Really, just get to the point already.

"You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment.

'_You know he is,'_ Albus thought privately. _'You were the one who always wanted to meet him after all and get in his good graces.'_

"Yes," Harry said at once.

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?" he went on.

"Yes, but -" Harry began.

"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?" said Fudge quickly before Harry could finish.

"Yes," said Harry once again, "but -"

"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?" Fudge kept going.

"Yes, but -"

Albus fought the frown threatening to come. He saw where this was going. They were obviously going to steamroll through the confession in hopes of cementing a bad impression of Harry because technically, the boy did cast the spell he will have to answer yes, thus they will simply use that to try and convict him without letting him get a word in edge ways.

"Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?"

"Yes, but -"

"Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?"

"Yes," said Harry now starting to sound angry, "but I only used it because we were -"

"You produced a fully-fledged Patronus?" Amelia called down, looking down at him with great interest, almost causing Albus to smile knowing that she was impressed.

"Yes," said Harry at once, looking glad that someone other than Fudge was asking the questions. "because -"

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"A - what?" said Harry, off guard.

"Your Patronus had a clearly defined form?" she explained in her booming voice. "I mean to say, it was more than vapour or smoke?"

"Yes," said Harry called out almost desperate to be able to complete a sentence, "it's a stag, it's always a stag."

"Always?" she boomed again, her eyes popping slight in astonishment. "You have produced a Patronus before now?"

'_Now she's really impressed,'_ Albus thought. This was good…

"Yes," Harry answered, "I've been doing it for over a year."

"And you are fifteen years old?" she asked almost before he even stopped talking.

"Yes, and -" Harry called, and once again, he was being interrupted before he could finish.

"You learned this at school?"

"Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, because of the -"

And he also put in a good word in for Remus as well…

"Impressive," said Amelia, staring down at him, "a true Patronus at his age… very impressive indeed." Some of the wizards and witches around her were muttering again; a few nodded, but others were frowning and shaking their heads. It was easy to tell who's side they were on. That's the thing with government officials… they were so easy to read… and thankfully, just as easy to cut off guard.

"It's not a question of how impressive the magic was," said Fudge in a testy voice, "in fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy did it in plain view of a Muggle!"

Those who had been frowning now murmured in agreement, but suddenly, Harry called out loudly before anyone could interrupt him again. "I did it because of the Dementors!"

Silence.

'_Well,'_ he thought to himself. _'That got their attention.'_

"Dementors?" said Amelia after a moment, her thick eyebrows rising until her monocle was about to slip out of place. "What do you mean, boy?" she asked, not understanding what he was talking about.

"I mean there were two Dementors down that alleyway and they went for me and my cousin!" Harry called. Albus chanced a glance at him from the corner of his eyes. So that was what _really_ happened.

"Ah," said Fudge again, smirking as though he had just heard an amusing joke. He glanced around at the room as though he thought that he already won the case and called out, "Yes. Yes, I thought we'd be hearing something like this."

"Dementors in Little Whinging?" Amelia said, in a tone of great surprise, looking around as if hoping someone could explain how this could've happened. "I don't understand -"

"Don't you, Amelia?" Fudge asked, that pompous smirk on his face was starting to irritate Albus so much, that for a moment, ached to cast a curse to wipe it off. "Let me explain. He's been thinking it through and decided Dementors would make a very nice little cover story, very nice indeed. Muggles can't see Dementors, can they, boy? Highly convenient, highly convenient… so it's just your word and no witnesses…"

Albus shook his head slightly. Does he really think that anyone would truly buy that?

"I'm not lying!" said Harry loudly, over another outbreak of muttering from the court. "There were two of them, coming from opposite ends of the alley, everything went dark and cold and my cousin felt them and ran for it -"

"Enough, enough!" Fudge cried out, as though he had just caught a child doing something naughty. "I'm sorry to interrupt what I'm sure would have been a very well-rehearsed story -"

Albus heard enough of him and cleared his throat.

"We do, in fact, have a witness to the presence of Dementors in that alleyway," he said to them all coolly, "other than Dudley Dursley, I mean."

It looked to him—or maybe he hoped—that all the hot air in his head was deflating at those words. He stared down at him stunned for a minute before he said self-importantly, "We haven't got time to listen to more tarradiddles, I'm afraid, Dumbledore. I want this dealt with quickly -"

"I may be wrong," Albus said, addressing Amelia directly. "But I am sure that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case? Isn't that the policy of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones?"

"True," she answered, nodding to him at once. "Perfectly true."

"Oh, very well, very well," Fudged snapped, clearing getting angry, and Albus couldn't deny that he was rather enjoying making him so uncomfortable. "Where is this person?"

He cheerfully explained that he brought her with him, and watched as Percy Weasley ran down to get her. Albus waited patiently until he brought Arabella back with him, and he gave her his chair, while he conjured a new one for himself.

"Full name?" said Fudge loudly, with an air of incredulously, as though disbelieving that she could give him any real information. Arabella gave them her name timidly, but she held her head high as he continued to ask her questions.

She gave her evidence, and when Fudge told her to go, she looked from him to Albus nervously before she left.

"Not a very convincing witness," said Fudge loftily.

Albus rolled his eyes._ 'Yes, well you wouldn't find anyone convincing even if the Dementors themselves came in and confessed if they could.'_

"Oh, I don't know," said Amelia, in her booming voice. "She certainly described the effects of a Dementor attack very accurately. And I can't imagine why she would say they were there if they weren't."

"But Dementors wandering into a Muggle suburb and just happening to come across a wizard?" snorted Fudge. "The odds on that must be very, very long. Even Bagman wouldn't have bet -"

He left himself wide open here and Albus took advantage of that mistake by saying, "Oh, I don't think any of us believe the Dementors were there by coincidence."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Fudge asked icily.

Albus shrugged innocently before he answered, "It means that I think they were ordered there."

"I think we might have a record of it if someone had ordered a pair of Dementors to go strolling through Little Whinging!" barked Fudge.

"Not if the Dementors are taking orders from someone other than the Ministry of Magic these days," he answered calmly, now enjoying how furious Fudge was at him. "I have already given you my views on this matter, Cornelius."

"Yes, you have," he shouted down at him. "And I have no reason to believe that your views are anything other than bilge, Dumbledore. The Dementors remain in place in Azkaban and are doing everything we ask them to."

Once again, he left himself wide open. "Then," he answered back, "we must ask ourselves why somebody within the Ministry ordered a pair of Dementors into that alleyway on the second of August."

To his displeasure, Dolores Umbridge leaned forward. Now he knew that he should never feel any displeasure about any of his students, former or current, but she was never one of his favorites.

"The Chair recognizes Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister," said Fudge, and Umbridge spoke in her fluttery, girlish, high-pitched voice that made him think of poisoned honey.

"I'm sure I must have misunderstood you, Professor Dumbledore," she said, with a simper that didn't fool him. "So silly of me. But it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were suggesting that the Ministry of Magic had ordered an attack on this boy!"

Albus looked at her suspiciously, suddenly having an uneasy feeling in the air, though not a hundred percent sure why. But he answered anyway, "If it is true that the Dementors are taking orders only from the Ministry of Magic, and it is also true that two Dementors attacked Harry and his cousin a week ago, then it follows logically that somebody at the Ministry might have ordered the attacks. Of course, these particular Dementors may have been outside Ministry control -"

"There are no Dementors outside Ministry control!" snapped Fudge, who had turned brick red.

Albus merely bowed his head politely. "Then undoubtedly the Ministry will be making a full inquiry into why two Dementors were so very far from Azkaban and why they attacked without authorization."

Though a part of him was now wondering whether or not if it had been a Ministry official who sent them now… but he pushed that out of his thoughts as soon as Fudge snapped, turning bright red in his anger, "It is not for you to decide what the Ministry of Magic does or does not do, Dumbledore!"

Albus raised his eyebrows, "Of course it isn't, I was merely expressing my confidence that this matter will not go uninvestigated."

He glanced at Amelia, who readjusted her monocle and stared back at him, frowning slightly.

"I would remind everybody that the behavior of these Dementors, if indeed they are not figments of this boy's imagination, is not the subject of this hearing!" said Fudge. "We are here to examine Harry Potter's offences under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery!"

Really… did he honestly think that would work? Of course the Dementors were the subject of this hearing! If not for them, why else would Harry be forced to use the Patronus against them?

"Of course we are," Albus answered him civilly, though starting to feel like he was beating his head against the wall having to deal with people like this. Really, some of these people in government couldn't handle a single intelligent conversation…

"But the presence of Dementors in that alleyway is highly relevant. Clause Seven of the Decree states that magic may be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, and as those exceptional circumstances include situations which threaten the life of the wizard or witch him - or herself, or any witches, wizards or Muggles present at the time of the -"

"We are familiar with Clause Seven, thank you very much!" snarled Fudge, sounding like a dog.

"Of course you are," he answered courteously. "Then we are in agreement that Harry's use of the Patronus Charm in these circumstances falls precisely into the category of exceptional circumstances the clause describes?"

"If there were Dementors, which I doubt…" Fudge began again, but Albus cut him off, "You have heard it from an eyewitness. If you still doubt her truthfulness, call her back, question her again. I am sure she would not object."

"I - that - not -" blustered Fudge, fiddling with the papers before him. "It's - I want this over with today, Dumbledore!"

"But naturally, you would not care how many times you heard from a witness, if the alternative was a serious miscarriage of justice," he said firmly. This was a matter of the law… it shouldn't matter if this takes all day. None of this would've happen if he didn't insist on having a trial that was meant for a criminal in the first place.

"Serious miscarriage, my hat!" Fudge shouted, sounding like an angry child now. "Have you ever bothered to tot up the number of cock-and-bull stories this boy has come out with, Dumbledore, while trying to cover up his flagrant misuse of magic out of school? I suppose you've forgotten the Hover Charm he used three years ago -"

"That wasn't me, it was a house-elf!" Harry called out at once.

"YOU SEE" roared Fudge, gesturing flamboyantly in Harry's direction. "A house-elf! In a Muggle house! I ask you."

But Albus was aware of this—he had become very good friends with Dobby over the last year. A while back, he remembered, that during the Chamber of Secrets scare, that Dilys had reported to him that Dobby came to visit Harry in the Hospital Wing. When he asked what it was about, the little elf let this slip. "The house-elf in question is currently in the employ of Hogwarts School," he answered, feeling the need to point out that this had less than nothing with the hearing here and now. "I can summon him here in an instant to give evidence if you wish."

"I - not - I haven't got time to listen to house-elves! Anyway, that's not the only - he blew up his aunt, for God's sake!" Fudge shouted, banging his fist on the judge's bench and upsetting a bottle of ink, now throwing a tantrum.

"And you very kindly did not press charges on that occasion, accepting, I presume, that even the best wizards cannot always control their emotions," Albus reminded him, knowing that Fudge had just proved that case to him and everyone perfectly here.

"And I haven't even started on what he gets up to at school," he went on, now grasping at straws, determined to find some reason to punish him.

"But, as the Ministry has no authority to punish Hogwarts students for misdemeanors at school, Harry's behavior there is not relevant to this hearing," Albus answered, now feeling angry, having a bad feeling where this was going.

"Oho!" said Fudge, pointing a dramatic finger down at him. "Not our business what he does at school, eh? You think so?"

"The Ministry does not have the power to expel Hogwarts students, Cornelius, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August," Albus reminded him of their conversation that night—to keep him in line and that just because he was Minister of Magic, didn't mean he could do whatever he wanted. At least not without doing paperwork…

"Nor does it have the right to confiscate wands until charges have been successfully proven; again, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August. In your admirable haste to ensure that the law is upheld, you appear, inadvertently I am sure, to have overlooked a few laws yourself," Albus answered. Which was true—they were treating Harry as though he had committed murder or something terrible.

"Laws can be changed," said Fudge savagely.

"Of course they can," he agreed, inclining his head. "And you certainly seem to be making many changes, Cornelius. Why, in the few short weeks since I was asked to leave the Wizengamot, it has already become the practice to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a simple matter of underage magic!"

And he knew then that they had it won. A few of the wizards above them shifted uncomfortably in their seats; most of them now frowning over at Fudge—who was so red that he looked ready to explode.

"As far as I am aware," Albus finished up, "there is no law yet in place that says this court's job is to punish Harry for every bit of magic he has ever performed. He has been charged with a specific offence and he has presented his defense. All he and I can do now is to await your verdict."

He put his fingertips together again, not bothering to say another word, Fudge glared at him, evidently incensed and Albus didn't have to guess that he was most likely imagining horrible things happening to him. He continued to look up at the benches where the entire Wizengamot had fallen into urgent, whispered conversations. He chanced another glance at Harry out of the corner of his eye and saw that he was looking down at his sneakers nervously. But Albus wasn't worried… after Harry said he could do the Patronus charm, he knew that Amelia was impressed and that was his ticket to freedom. If he could show he was capable in their eyes, impress them…

"Those in favor of clearing the witness of all charges?" Amelia called out and he looked back up. And as he thought, more than half of the members raised their hands.

He smiled, as the few who voted for conviction knew that it was pointless now. Fudge glanced around at them all, looking as though there was something large stuck in his throat, then lowered his own hand. He took two deep breaths and said, in a voice distorted by suppressed rage, "Very well, very well… cleared of all charges."

"Excellent," he called briskly, springing to his feet, pulling out his wand and causing the armchairs to vanish. "Well, I must be getting along. Good-day to you all."

And that was it.

He left the room so quickly that he knew it looked suspicious—but he couldn't risk it… He didn't dare to look at him. He didn't dare make face-to-face contact with him and so he had no choice but to ignore him like he wasn't there.

He rushed out of there so quickly, that he didn't even hear Arthur's voice calling out to him. All Albus knew for sure was that he made sure not have any contact with Harry as he left the Ministry of Magic.

*A couple days before the school year*

Albus was furious.

Just a few hours ago, he received the visit from Cornelius telling him about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, which he wanted and would have placed in Hogwarts. Since Albus had been unsuccessful in finding a teacher, they stepped in to solve that problem—but Albus knew better—it was to try to get him under their control.

But of all the people they could've had, they couldn't have picked a more awful person.

Dolores Umbridge was a vile woman, and he felt no shame in admitting that. He remembered that even at the young age of eleven, and was sorted into Slytherin, Albus could see the greed and hunger for power in her toad-like gaze. And while he took some comfort in the fact that she would never join the Death Eaters—for she was to above getting her hands dirty in the ministry to do such a thing—he knew that it was a small comfort.

He knew the students would hate her and learn nothing from her—for according to Kingsley, Cornelius had reached a whole new level of paranoia. Apparently he was now afraid that Albus would try and forge an army of his own with the students so now they were going to try and prevent that from happening.

Now Albus had heard tell of many strange things in his life, but this had to be the most ridiculous thing he'd heard yet. Him… try and force students to join an army merely to overthrow Fudge? While it did sound very tempting, what kind of person did Fudge take him for?

But there wasn't much he could do about it now. Now, thanks to Fudge, his students would be made to suffer for their minister's stupidity, and not learn anything this year. And he also knew that his staff would find her as annoying as they did when she was a girl and distrust would be maximized in the castle.

While they try to say that they were doing this for the sake of the students, he knew that it was just another attempt to get rid of him and discredit Harry in the middle of all this. Fudge would surly give Umbridge power that no one else ever had over Hogwarts and try to find an excuse to expel Harry, along with anyone else who believed him.

Oh, he knew that Fudge would love nothing more than to sack him so he knew that he must act, and quickly at that. He didn't know how long he would have, but he knew he must pick out the students who believed Harry and himself from those who didn't and remained completely loyal to the Ministry.

It would be tedious but if it helped the cause than he was all for it.

Sighing, he looked down at the two pieces of parchment that had been waiting for him when he arrived back at his office. At first he couldn't think of what they was, but then he remembered that he was supposed to look over the request list for the Prefects and for the new Head Boy and Girl. The heads of Houses each chose one male and one female student from their fifth years at the beginning of each year to act as prefects, and would continue to be prefects in their sixth and seventh years until they leave school. Albus looked over the Prefects list first, knowing that the final decision was given to him.

The requests for Prefects this year were…

_**Gryffindor:**_

_Harry Potter_

_Hermione Granger_

_**Ravenclaw:**_

_Anthony Goldstein_

_Padma Patil_

_**Hufflepuff:**_

_Ernest Macmillan_

_Hannah Abbott_

_**Slytherin:**_

_Draco Malfoy_

_Pansy Parkinson_

He gazed long and hard at the list. He had no problems with their decisions… except for…

His eyes lingered on Harry's name. Before this year, he wouldn't have hesitated but now… he glanced up at the cloudy sky. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

With so much happening, the poor boy had enough responsibility to deal with didn't he? And with the ministry going out of their way to make his life miserable, and make him out as a liar and a show-off, the last thing that Harry needed was to worry about Prefect duties. And so, instead, he changed the name to Ronald Weasley before he looked at the suggestions for the Head Boy and Girl.

*Later*

He spent the rest of the day and most of the next day getting everything ready for the students that were to arrive, until, the eve before school started, he had actually fallen asleep in his chair and didn't wake up until it was dark.

"You don't look well, Dumbledore," Dilys said worriedly as Albus sat up in his seat, looking around. "Maybe you should go and take something…?"

"I'll be fine," Albus told her as he got wearily up from his seat, thinking longingly of his bed when he heard Phineas speak slyly, "First sign of madness, talking to your own head."

Albus looked up at him and said, "I didn't say anything."

"Not you," Phineas said, jerking his thumb to the side of his painting. "Potter. He's talking to his scar."

Albus looked at him in surprise, and turned around fully to look at him. "What are you talking about?"

"He's rubbing his head, telling it to 'cut it out'," Phineas said, making air quotes with his fingers. "You know, that Prophet might know what they're talking about if he's talking to himself like that."

"No, Phineas," Albus sighed. "Rather, I think that it is his scar hurting him."

He had a feeling what the scar was… what it meant… especially considering how Harry had been able to tell some of what Voldemort had been thinking the previous year, and if he was correct…

He shook his head violently to get the horrible thought out of his mind and focused only on going to bed. A chance to escape reality would be a great relief to him.

But as he left the office, and even as he made his way to his soft bed, he also made a silent vow that he was going to protect Harry… at all costs.

**(Sorry for the wait again, but I'm stuck doing finals for collage, that's why I haven't been able to update lately, but I really hope that you all enjoyed this last chapter. But what scenes should I do next? Does anyone have any suggestions? Because with every chapter I write here… it's like pulling teeth out of my head. It's becoming painful…)**


	48. Skin Deep

**Chapter 47: Skin Deep**

He felt old that night, far older than he could remember feeling for a very long time.

It was the night of the welcoming feast and Albus had gone down to the Great Hall just as the students were all arriving, as he always had done.

The Entrance Hall was glowing with the bright torches and there was a starless black ceiling, which made the light feel even warmer than before. He watched as the faces of his students talking eagerly with one another, trying to make up for two months of lost time. He took his seat calmly, as he could see that many of them were now starting to stare at him darkly and suspiciously. He didn't mind… he knew that this would happen.

He looked to the doors to watch the students coming in like a flood, and soon he spotted them. The trio had just arrived with Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and, to his surprise, Miss Lovegood from Ravenclaw. He smiled as he watched her drift off towards the Ravenclaw table—he had heard a great deal about her from his staff… a more unique girl you couldn't find anywhere.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville found seats together about halfway down the table between Nearly Headless Nick. Suddenly, the trio put their heads together and was whispering to one another, their faces looking a little worried.

"What are you looking at, Dumbledore?" asked an overly-sweet voice from next to him. Closing his eyes for a moment, he turned his head and inclined it slightly so that he could hear her better, though he wasn't pleased about it.

"Just admiring all the students," he said deeply.

"Really?" she asked with a girlish giggle. "Now why would you do that? They're all the same." She looked over all the students all like a toad watching a bunch of flies, "Misbehaving, naughty children who lack proper guidance."

Albus's eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't see that, Dolores. On the contrary, I see a room full of talented students who are eager to prove themselves and learn."

She shot him a disbelieving look before she asked, with an evil smile, "To each his own, Dumbledore." She giggled that same high-pitched, girlish giggle again, and some of his other staff members, shot her an annoyed glare.

"It really is a shame that Hagrid couldn't be here," she went on, as she readjust the little black bow on top of her head. "Where did you say he was again?"

Like he would come out and tell her. "I told you," he said softly. "Hagrid is taking an extended vacation. He should be back before long."

Thankfully, Professor Grubbly-Plank appeared, and took Hagrid's usual seat. Knowing that the first-years were here, he sat up straighter, and sure enough—Minerva came in, leading them. The usual line of nervous-looking first-years was staring around them in amazement and awe at everything. He smiled a little at that as he watched Minerva lead them up to the front of their table, and had them all facing the rest of the school, which had just quieted down.

She set the Sorting Hat on its usual stool and stood back with the long roll of names. The whole school waited for a short time, and then, the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song:

_In times of old when I was new,_

_And Hogwarts barely started,_

_The founders of our noble school,_

_Thought never to be parted,_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world's best magic school,_

_And pass along their learning._

_"__Together we will build and teach!"_

_The four good friends decided,_

_And never did they dream,_

_That they might some day be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere,_

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell,_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those whose_

_Ancestry is purest."_

_Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name."_

_Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same."_

_These differences caused little strife,_

_When first they came to light,_

_For each of the four founders had_

_A house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted,_

_So, for instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_

_And taught them all she knew,_

_Thus the houses and their founders_

_Retained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears._

_The houses that, like pillars four,_

_Had once held up our school,_

_Now turned upon each other and,_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end,_

_What with dueling and with fighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score:_

_I sort you into houses_

_Because that is what I'm for,_

_But this year I'll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfill my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether Sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble from within_

_I have told you, I have warned you…_

_Let the Sorting now begin._

Everyone burst into applause, though he did so half-heartedly.

A very interesting song, however it wasn't all that different in terms of message to what it used to give during the first war. Because they had lived through that war, the message wasn't new to him or the rest of the teachers, but to the students…?

He sighed, they were all coming from an era of peace until now, and it will be a huge change. All across the Great Hall students were exchanging remarks with their neighbors about the song, wondering what was happening. But Minerva had just started reading out the names, and the students all fell silent as she gave them all a dark look. She then went back to reading out: "Abercrombie, Euan."

And so it went on until Minerva finished and took the Hat and stool out of the hall. Smiling, he stood up, stretching his arms wide and called out to the hall, "To our newcomers, welcome! To our old hands - welcome back!" he beamed at each of the four tables, seeing the hungry looks on their faces. So, rather than torture them any longer, he said, "There is a time for speechmaking, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as he sat down and threw his beard over his shoulder so that he could eat properly. But as he started to cut his steak, Dolores leaned in and began to talk again.

"You know, Albus," she said in a sweet voice, "I must say that Hogwarts has been going downhill for some time now don't you think?"

"By whatever do you mean, Dolores?" he asked politely, though firmly, not quite enjoying his meal as much as he thought he would.

"Well," she said smiling in an innocent way that he didn't believe for one minute, "Just that the Ministry believes that you seem to have lost your touch in recent years. Especially after what happened last year."

Albus gave her a hard look and she let the matter of Cedric's death drop for a moment before she said, "Well, things will be changing here this year, that much I can promise you."

Albus's eyes narrowed at that. Oh, he had a feeling that would indeed be true. But all he felt right now was a powerful rush of dislike that he couldn't explain. She patted her pink cardigan down as she looked around. "Ah, Hogwarts… almost as I remember it, I must say. Which is why I believe it's time for a change."

"Appearances can be deceiving, Dolores," Albus said softly. _'As you would know all too well,'_ he added in an in his mind. He remembered her from when she was a student here, and it wasn't too fondly. Her personality has been described from his staff as "poisoned honey". Ever since she was young she had been prejudiced against part-humans, such as werewolves and half-giants, which she called "half-breeds." He remembered how she had gone around, trying to get signatures to remove the centaurs in the forest, and the merfolk in the lake. Even though merfolk weren't part-human at all, rather they are a completely different species.

She placed a blind faith in authority, believing that it could not possibly be wrong. She liked to attach herself to the popular, and intelligent students in the school when she was here… naturally siding with those who would give her more. And despite her high ranking position in the Ministry, he didn't find her a particular powerful witch. Her real magical power and knowledge were mainly focused in offensive and defensive magic, particularly of a darker variety. Ironically it was this that a Defense Against the Dark Arts was suppose to teach, that she will most likely prevent her students from learning.

But rather than say all that out loud, he finished by answering truthfully, "Much has changed since your last visit."

"Well, that will make my job easier," she said, her smile hard. "Change is constructive, different is good. And I plan on making many changes here."

"Different, by its nature, isn't good or bad, Dolores; it just isn't the same as it once was," Albus said simply.

She smiled again. "And you would know more about different than I do. You certainly aren't—ah—like any other Headmaster or Headmistress that has ever been here."

'_Personally, I never saw what was so important about being like everyone else?'_ he thought, turning away from her, and quickly striking up a conversation with Minerva.

The rest of the feast went on as it normally did, and when he was finished with his final bite of dessert, he was starting to feel warm and comfortable. When he noticed that the students were also starting to drift off, he stood up, and every eye turned to him.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast," he began smiling around at them all. "I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too."

His eyes glanced at the Gryffindor table, taking careful care not to notice Harry before he went on, "Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door."

He could see them all looking at their friends, eyebrows raised. He knew that it was pointless to say this, but it at least made Argus feel better that he at least tried.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

After they applauded in a bored way at Dolores name, he went on, "Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the -"

"Hem, hem," said a voice next to him.

He stopped, and looked down at her. She had moved to stand up, though it wasn't easy to tell with her height.

It was the first time that anyone had interrupted him during the welcoming speech since he became Headmaster. But he came back to his senses to sit down and looked at her, no longer feeling tired or comfortable. He knew that this was only the first step of 'change' she had promised.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Dolores simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

She gave another little throat-clearing cough ("hem, hem") and continued.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"

Albus's eyes looked to his students and he felt the need to laugh. While they were all still young, no one liked being treated like they were little kids. Each and every face was looking at her with a mixture of distaste and annoyance.

Already he could foresee that she will not become the most popular teacher here.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

"Please forgive me while I go and vomit," he heard Minerva whisper in an undertone to Pomona, and he had to bite back a laugh.

Dolores cleared her throat again and went on, sounding like she had rehearsed this speech for a very dull business meeting.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Dolores paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back to her.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…"

It was after this when he could hear his students all whispering and giggling together, obviously bored and uninterested with her speech. But he forced himself to listen to every bitter word, while Dolores didn't pay the slightest bit of attention that hardly anyone was listening to her.

"… because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned."

He raised his eyebrows as her eyes turned to him for a brief moment before she finished, "Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

She sat down, and Albus honestly felt sick on the inside. But he hid this by clapping, though hardly anyone else did. He then stood up.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her politely. Yes, that speech told him everything he needed to hear—the Ministry was going to interfere at Hogwarts this year. "Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held…"

*After he dismissed everyone*

"It is going to be an interesting year," he whispered to Minerva as the two got up from their seats.

"I can't deny that," she said darkly. "Don't you think that it's strange that we haven't had a normal year here since Mr. Potter arrived?"

"An unusual coincidence," he sighed regretfully.

"She's going to be unbearable," Minerva hissed, looking over her shoulder at Dolores. "Even though Umbridge is the Minister's spy, there isn't really all that much she will be able to do, she is only the defense professor, she isn't even a head of house, so how much influence can she have?"

"However much Fudge chooses to give her," he answered grimly.

"Well, I can honestly say that I can't wait for the curse to strike," she said, glaring at Dolores's retreating back. Given that subject's track record she won't last the full year, then there will hopefully be someone with a better taste in clothing to teach next year."

At that moment, he heard a familiar voice call out, "Hey - hey, you lot! Midgets!"

He looked up to the Gryffindors to see Hermione telling Ron off before she called out, "First-years! This way, please!"

He watched as the new Gryffindors walked up to her, Harry, who was standing next to her, smiled at two of the boys—who froze and stared at him with frightened expressions.

Albus sighed… the first of many who will be fed lies.

*In his office*

"Most people think he's crazy," Everard sighed when he entered his picture. "Heard Potter and Finnigan got into a fight about it."

"I overheard that Lavender Brown thinks so to," Dilys called dully. "Along with a handful of other Gryffindors and most of the Ravenclaws… but from what I heard, at least half of the Hufflepuffs _think_ he might be telling the truth."

"Most likely how Cedric's memory is being treated," Albus nodded. "Harry has been blamed for several crimes here over the last five years, and in the end, he was always telling the truth."

"Surprisingly, none of the Slytherins think he's crazy," Dexter said, giving Phineas a dark look.

"Why are you looking at me?" he demanded silkily.

"I'm just saying that most of their families are Death Eaters," Everard said angrily. "So of course they would know the truth."

"That is enough Everard," Albus sighed. "Just keep a close watch on Harry for me. I want you all to watch him especially close this year."

"When don't you have someone watching him all the time?" Phineas called. "I swear, the boy is thick for not noticing that he's being watched…"

"Now that I think of it," Armando said in his wheezy voice, "You seem to have been avoiding him lately. Why is that?"

Albus gave him a tired look. He knew that the fact that he had been avoiding Harry hasn't gone unnoticed. The Order and his staff members are all surprised by his apparent lack of concern for the boy… which couldn't have been further from the truth. The two of them were in this together, after all; he had believed Harry, announced his version of events to the whole school and then to the wizarding community… and he would continue to believe him.

"I just can't let myself get to close to him," he told them as he went to bed without another word. But he did hear Phineas give a loud snort, as if telling him that he didn't believe his words for a second.

*The next morning*

Feeling grim, Albus spent most of the morning looking out at the miserable rain-cloud grey sky. He just couldn't get to sleep, tossing and turning all night, only to get up to answer messages from the rest of the Order.

There was still no word from Sturgis Podmore. He remembered Alastor complaining about him not being there for their guard. It had been his turn to stand guard over the door to the Hall of Prophecy a few nights ago, but he never reported back in.

He gazed out at the fine misty drizzle, and the students that were all huddled underneath trees or parts of the castle. His eyes fell onto three familiar people shivering underneath a heavily dripping balcony. He watched the three of them talk for a moment before a fourth figure, Ravenclaw Cho Chang from the looks of things, approached them.

He then turned and went back to his desk, planning on sending a message to Alastor to see if he could find Sturgis.

"He's got a bit of a temper on him these days," Dilys said as he sat down. "He keeps snapping at his friends. If I didn't know better… I would think that he's a different person."

"But 'he' I'm guessing that you mean Harry?" he asked, looking through his drawers.

"He just seems so angry these days, Dumbledore," she sighed. "It's like he's someone else."

"With everything happening to him, can you blame him?" he asked softly.

"The whole world is calling him insane and a liar," Dexter frowned. "I see what you mean. Of course he would be upset."

"But it's more than that," Dilys said stubbornly. "He's not himself…"

But Albus had a feeling that most, if not all, of Harry's anger was directed with the frustration with himself. But he was starting to understand what Dilys meant. When he went down for lunch later on, he watched Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger coming out of the hall.

"Look," Hermione said to Ron firmly as they headed for the staircase. "You just have to tell him. Remind him whose side we're on."

"I'm not going to tell him," Ron said at once. "He's been in a bad mood since summer. I'm afraid he might bite my head off if I say something wrong."

"Just tell him that we've stopped arguing and that it would be nice if he didn't keep taking his anger out on us," she told him. "It can't be easy for him, but he needs to remember that we're not against him."

"Why don't you tell him?" Ron demanded as they climbed the stairs.

"Because I won't see him until Defense Against the Dark Arts," she told him. "And you sit next to him in Divination."

They looked up and spotted him coming down the stairs; they both stopped talking at once. He inclined his head politely to them both as he walked right by them.

*Later*

"I know that I'm going to regret asking this," Albus sighed, drinking a potion that Severus made for him to cure his headache. "But what happened in Umbridge's class?"

"Well, it could've been worse," Dexter said in a would-be-upbeat voice.

"Just say it!" Everard snapped in disgust. "It was a nightmare! She treats them like they're dim four-year-olds, who can't even read properly!"

"Now that wasn't… well, it was… I'm sure that it will…" Dexter stuttered, struggling to find something positive to say, but… "Ok, it was a horrible lesson, if you can call it that! You were right. They're just reading theory out of a book, and it made me sick just listening to that voice."

Albus didn't answer. This was terrible… it was only her first class and already it was ruining the student's chances of surviving in this next war.

"But, I feel I should mention that some students aren't going to be mindless sheep for her," Everard said, a rather wicked smirk crossing his face.

Albus looked at him wearily, "What happened?"

"First," Everard said, "Miss Granger called her out."

"Really?" Albus asked, interested at once at what Hermione had to say here.

"Yeah, she said that she doesn't agree with it, and it caused this huge uproar," he said with a laugh. "She says that there's nothing written in there about actually _using_ defensive spells."

"I'm glad that she noticed," Albus said approvingly.

"Umbridge didn't like that," Everard remarked. "Didn't seem too happy that a teenager is telling her what she's doing wrong. But it's what she said that got me angry."

"And that would be?" Albus asked politely, though dreading what this she said.

"She said that she couldn't imagine any situation arising in her classroom that would require them to actually use any defensive spell," he said as if there was a nasty taste in his mouth. "That they shouldn't expect to be attacked during class."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Dilys muttered to her neighbors, who nodded in agreement. "Remember what kind of teachers you've had teaching? Two of them were working for You-Know-Who."

"That is not the point of defense though," Albus sighed, "The point is being able to defend yourself _outside_ of the classroom. It is better to have the skills to protect yourself and never have to use them than to find yourself in a situation with no idea what to do."

"It couldn't be any clearer that she wants them all to fail their O.W.L's," Everard grumbled. "And Harry lost his temper again."

Albus shook his head, a hand going up to his forehead as he felt another headache coming back. "What did he say?"

"You have to admit that he made a lot of good points," he said comfortingly. "And he's right when he said 'what good's theory going to be in the real world?' And—ah—he mentioned You-Know-Who."

Albus shut his eyes. "And?" he asked, wondering how Umbridge took this.

"Well, you know how he gets sometimes," he said nervously. "He… said that he saw and fought him. That he killed Diggory. And…" he stopped. "Umbridge said that Diggory's death was nothing but a tragic accident."

Albus felt anger boiling inside him. To pass off such a brave, young man's death as if it was something stupid he did… he felt the need to curse her wide mouth shut.

"And Harry now has detention. Tomorrow night at five in her office," Everard finished off grimly. "And she sent him off to McGonagall with a note."

"He has nerve," Albus said after a moment's silence, "I'll give him that," before adding as an afterthought, "Though he really shouldn't pick fights with his teachers."

"Even if they aren't real teachers?" Dilys asked with a smile.

He raised his eyebrows at her politely and went on, "While I'm glad he is standing up for what he believes in, right now, it's more important that he remains calm and in control of his temper. Though I am wondering why she is referring him to Minerva. As much as I hate to say it, it would be her jurisdiction to assign punishment, so Minerva's involvement is not necessary."

"I think it was just to get him out of the room," Dexter muttered. "I wondered what Umbridge said when he left… after all now there wasn't anyone to contradict her, at least not in the way Harry was doing it."

"Either way, I'm sure I'll hear about it from Minerva later on," Albus said.

*Later*

As he predicted, Minerva came in just before dinner and informed him of Potter's detention. She even brought with her the note that Umbridge wrote to her.

_Dear Minerva,_

_I am sorry to say that Mr. Potter disrupted our lesson today with some ridiculous story. Not only did he shout at me and called me a liar, he kept insisting that disgusting lie that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back. So I am afraid I have no choice but to give him detention every evening this week starting tomorrow at five. I ask that you have a word with him about respecting his betters._

_This school had once been a great, well-ordered bastion of learning… but now, it had fallen from that great height to something much lower. Now, the students insisted on being different, even though they know nothing! I believe that if they want to stand out, they need to work hard and get into the Ministry, where their talents can be appreciated… assuming they had any, of course. Their job is to keep quiet and pass tests, and that is all. And I strongly discourage any of our fellow staff members too dis-encourage things like independent thought… among children! It was bad enough when all adults are encouraged to think independently, but children? No, no, that would just make a mess of things. It had made a mess of things; just look at this place! Thankfully, I plan to change all that soon enough._

Albus shook his head in disgust. Discourage the students not to think independently? Well, that has to be one of most ridiculous things he's ever heard in his long life. What did she think? Turn them all into mindless servants? Knowing her, she probably was.

"Well," Albus said, throwing the note onto his desk and looking up at his Depty. "She sure makes her point doesn't she?"

"She's disgusting," Minerva snarled. "I didn't like her as a student, and I certainly don't like her now. She is a despicable and vile woman and a horrible teacher to boot, stifling their education. A teacher should never ever base learning in pure theory. Doing so will never give our students the practice they need to function in this magical world! And to further her ineptitude, she prohibits asking questions in class. It's people like her, and, of course, the Ministry of Magic, living in denial the way they do that make me angry.

He could see that Umbridge wasn't the only one who got to the point.

"But as for Potter…" she sighed, looking at him. "He really needs to use his common sense. Potter knows that she works for the Ministry, and she is going to be going to Fudge with any news. Now he's got detention every night all week."

"I heard differently," Albus said causally. "I heard it was just one night."

"You knew?" she asked, mildly surprised.

"I overheard it," he said truthfully. "Hard not to—I'm sure that it's only going to be a matter of time before the rest of the school hears as well. And believe me, Minerva. If I could fire her and bring someone else in to teach in her place I would. But I have no choice in the matter."

"I know," she said unhappily. "We all do. But that doesn't make it any easier. But now I hear that she's trying to get the students to spy for her. She wanted them to tell her if they heard anyone talking about You-Know-Who."

"That doesn't surprise me," Albus said sourly. "Of course she's here to spy on us all, that's obvious, why else would Fudge have wanted her to come in the first place?"

He got up and they both headed down to the Great Hall for dinner together. "At least he listens to Miss Granger," she sighed. "Potter I mean. I pray she will keep him in line."

"We both do," he answered sadly, his stomach was now growling. He hadn't eaten all day, and now he felt as if his stomach was eating itself. But, as he thought, the news that Harry had argued with Umbridge was now traveling around the school. Even as he sat down in his seat, he could hear the whispers all around the hall.

"He says he saw Cedric Diggory murdered…" said a fourth-year girl in Gryffindor.

"He reckons he dueled with You-Know-Who…" a sixth-year Slytherin boy snorted.

"Come off it…" his friend laughed.

"Who does he think he's kidding?" a seventh-year Ravenclaw called loudly.

"Pur-Lease…" A Hufflepuff said shaking her head.

Now Albus couldn't blame them. He could understand what it must've looked like to them. Harry had arrived back to Hogwarts with Cedric's body… no one could've seen what had happened in the maze… and before they could except the truth, they were forced to go home where their parents and the papers have been saying that Harry was a liar and how he, himself, was losing his mind.

"Oy, Potter!" he heard someone shout. Barely glancing up, half-expecting to see Umbridge there, instead he saw Angelina Johnson, looking furious, marching towards him.

He was briefly confused until he remembered that the Gryffindors had booked the field for Friday. He shook his head. He's going to miss try-outs, and as the new captain, of course Miss Johnson would be upset.

Unfortunately, there wasn't anything that he could do. He could only hope that this would help Harry to keep his temper around that toad. He blinked in surprise. That old toad…? When did he start thinking like that about her? Now, he had always been taught by his mother to never speak ill of a woman… but then he glanced to Umbridge, who was slurping her drink with her pinky out.

He shook his head, and hoped that his mother could make one exception.

As for that evening, he tried to ask his portraits to watch Harry for his detention, but that wasn't possible at the moment.

"We can't keep an eye on them," Dexter told him regretfully. "She took all the portraits out of there."

"The only other things in there are those tacky kitten plates," Dilys shuddered. "And we can't use those, Dumbledore."

"Then keep an eye on the outside and let me know what happens," he said wearily. "Let me know when he leaves."

Dexter nodded. "I'll take over first," he said and walked out of his frame to a portrait that would be outside Umbridge's office.

Feeling light-headed from those Soothing Potions he took, he went back to addressing letters to the Ministry, and messages to the Order—trying to find out any news they had to report. He was so busy here that he didn't get a chance to go to bed until at 1 in the morning.

Finally, with his bones aching, exhausted, and thinking only of his warm bed—he was about to leave. At least until…

"He was there from five, almost to midnight!" said a disgruntled voice.

Feeling dizzy, he looked to see Dexter there in his frame again. "Oh, Dexter," he said tiredly. "Is this something that can wait until morning or…?"

"Just thought that you would want to know," he said angrily. "That Umbridge woman kept Potter in detention for almost seven hours!"

"And did he say what she make him do?" he asked, frowning.

"That he just did lines apparently," he shrugged. "He was rubbing his hand. Hours and hours of writing apparently."

Albus looked at him in surprise. "Well, that's not so bad," he said. "Knowing Umbridge, I had been expecting worse."

And with that thought, he went straight off to bed.

*Evening a few days later*

Several days had passed since that night, and Albus was still as busy as always. He spent most of his time in his office, in constant contact with the Order members, listening in to everything he could. What he heard disturbed him greatly.

Lucius was still buying his way into the Ministry and Fudge was hardly more than his puppet. And according to a message he got from Hagrid, any hope of the giants joining them were gone. Severus had also mentioned that Death Eaters was now starting to go to other nearby countries, trying to get others to join their cause… things weren't looking good.

He paced the floor, he heard from Bill Weasley last night, saying that the Prophecy was still safe, though he noticed that Lucius, Macnair, and several other Death Eaters in the Ministry were seen down there several times.

He could tell that Tom was starting to get impatient. Unfortunately, he also knew that Tom couldn't send any of his servants in to retrieve it. He would wait… until he was sure his plan would work.

He was so lost in thought that, at first, he didn't notice Armando coming into his portrait, looking extremely edgy about something.

"Armando?" one of the Headmistresses asked in surprise, "Is something wrong?" and he suddenly made shhing noises, waving his hand down, trying to get her to shut up.

"Armando?" Albus asked, turning to look at him who looked as though he would've rather he did anything but ask his name. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he said a little too quickly, in a way that Albus didn't believe.

"Armando, my old friend, what is it?" he asked concerned. "Is there something wrong?" He didn't like how the former Headmaster kept looking to the sides of his picture, as if wondering if he could just walk out and not come back. "Please tell me, what is it?"

Armando was rubbing his old wrists, as if uncomfortable in his own skin. Finally, he said nervously, as if afraid how he would take the news, "I was keeping an eye on Potter, like what you said…" He shifted in his chair and said, "The boy just left his detention and was heading up to the common room…"

"Yes," Albus said slowly. "But what is wrong?"

"Well, he ran into his friend, the Weasley boy he's always with, on the way up," he said a little quickly. "And it turns out that he's trying out for Keeper."

Albus blinked. What was the problem with that? "That's good to hear," Albus said, "I'm glad to know that. But really, what is wrong with that?"

"Another Weasley on the Gryffindor team," Phineas softly muttered in disgust.

"But ah… you see," Armando went on, as if he hadn't heard Phineas.

"What is it?" Albus asked patiently, wondering what on earth could be so bad.

"The truth is…"

"Oh, out with it you sniffling idiot!" Phineas snapped at him.

Armando shot him a nasty look before he said, "Well… you see… Umbridge had been making Potter do lines for his detentions, but there's a piece of important information that we didn't know about."

Albus looked at him.

"He's forced to write, _'I must not tell lies'_ for six or seven hours everyday and…" Armando said, and trailed off for a moment, unable to finish.

Albus continued to look at him, his face not showing any emotion. "Well, that's bound to be hard for him, but I still don't…"

"You didn't let me finish," he whispered, holding up a shaking hand, as if afraid of what Albus was going to do if he waited any longer.

And then Albus found out the truth. A Blood Quill. She was forcing Harry to use a Blood Quill.

Albus stared at him.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked softly, staring at him, horror and rage welling up inside. "Are you positive?"

"I didn't want to believe it," Armando said as they all stared at him. "But I saw them. I overheard Harry tell Ron… and showed him his hand. There words cared there and it was bleeding. He said that she was forcing him to write with a black quill and in his own blood."

Silence… and then…

"That is disgusting!" Dilys shouted in fury. "He needs to go to McGonagall or one of the other teachers and…"

"But he won't!" Armando called loudly over her tirade.

"Why ever not?" she demanded. "That's not an appropriate punishment! That's torture."

"And has this been happening every detention?" Albus asked softly. A Blood Quill was an object only to be used for powerful, magical binding contracts. Not to be used over and over again… "Even the first night?"

"It takes a long time for the Blood-Quill's effects to become permanent," Armando reminded them. "And it must've been… I think that they should still heal over… but if he writes anymore… I don't think those scars will ever heal."

He trailed off and Albus sat down, a hand over his eyes. This was a school… the students were supposed to be safe here… but now he finds out about this. Dolores Umbridge… there was now no doubt in his mind that she was clearly an evil woman - nothing short of a sociopath - who characterised the worst aspects of political power. To actually torture the students you were supposed to protect? And to a student who was only telling the truth?

"Harry, why didn't you me tell me or one of the other teachers?" he asked softly, speaking more to himself than to the others.

"That's what Weasley said," Armando said hurriedly. "But Potter refuses to do so. He said that the other teachers had their own troubles with Umbridge and he wasn't about to make it worse. Said that he wasn't given her the satisfaction of knowing she got to him."

"Men and their pride," Dilys and the other Headmistress cried out furiously. "Got to him? He should just swallow his pride and tell someone! She can't get away with this."

"But McGonagall doesn't have much power over her," one of them shouted.

"Then he needs to come to you, Albus…"

But Albus just sat there. "He won't," he said softly.

"But he's can't just…"

"He won't," he said firmly, standing back up. "I know him enough by now to know what he's like. And he won't do it… he will continue to suffer through it like now. And… I can't say I blame him."

"What are you…?" but he was no longer listening to any of them.

He could see where the boy was coming from. It was on his command after all that Harry had been isolated at the Dursleys for most of his life, where he is completely neglected both physically and psychologically… and especially after the traumatic event of what happened last year? He was cut off from everyone and everything he cared about and needed for over a month—as if he was just shut into a cage and forgotten about.

And even once he gets to headquarters he doesn't allow him to be filled in properly on things that directly concern him. He didn't even bother to check to see how he was coping or if there is anything that he could've done to make it easier. Even at his trial, out of the blue, he came and defended him… only to leave without a word.

The anger and frustration was most likely caused by himself, he knew it. In a way, he did abandon him… but it was for the right answers.

At least that was what he thought… but after hearing this… was it still right?

*The next night*

"He still won't go to you," Dexter called angrily. "He's with his friends in the common room and he just won't say a word about it to anyone else."

Albus looked down at the letters in front of him, on his desk, but not really seeing them.

"Albus you can't honestly let this continue!" Dilys said outraged.

"I am afraid that I can't do anything right now," he said sadly. "Harry won't come to me and complain. And if he won't tell me what's happening, there's nothing I can do."

"Besides," Phineas yawned. "All that Umbridge has to do is say that the brat put those words there himself for sympathy. Who do you think that the idiotic Ministry will listen to?"

Albus got up and began to pace the room, feeling that he would lose his mind if he sat still any longer.

"But surly there must be something you can do," Dilys asked, and all the other women called in agreement.

"I told you," he said, his tone bitter and sharp. "If Harry won't come to me, then there's nothing that I _can_ do about it."

"Yeah but…"

"You can't just…"

"How about…?"

"Please," he called wearily. "If there was something I could do, believe me, I'd do it. But without anyone coming to me with a problem, there's not much I can do to stop her. And though it pains me to admit it, Phineas was right."

"What do you mean by that…?" Phineas called in an outraged voice, but he continued, "My hands are tied."

But that didn't stop him feeling sick with himself for not being able to do more. Just thinking about the Blood Quill being used on any of his students… his hands curled into fists—fury coursing through him.

"Then you might not be interested in that his scar was hurting him again," Dexter asked.

"I… what?" he asked, taken off-guard. "You say that it was hurting him again?"

"Said that it happened when he was in Umbridge's office," he answered. "He was telling Granger about it. Said that when Umbridge touched his hand, hurt…"

"And I'm correct in guessing that he won't come to me about that either?" Albus asked.

"Said that he already told you about it last year and that you didn't need to hear it again," he said, but he wasn't looking at him as he said that; a sign that he wasn't being completely honest.

"Dexter?" he asked.

"We—he—ah—he also, kinda said, that his scar is the only part of him you seem to care about anymore," he added in a mumble.

"What an ungrateful brat," Phineas yawned, though there was a smirk.

Albus shook his head. "Did he say anything else?"

"Just that he wanted to write and tell Sirius about it," he answered.

Albus wasn't so sure that would be wise. He'd bet a year's supply of Lemon Drops that she was watching the mail. He could only hope that he learned something from Alastor about putting something in writing…

But he could see Harry's worry. If his scar hurt when Umbridge touched him, it was unusually like what happened with Quirrell touched him in his first year when Voldemort possessed him. But he doubted that Umbridge was being controlled that way. Well, she was possessed by something alright, but it wasn't Voldemort.

He doesn't need her like he needed with Quirrell. He has a body now, and his powers back.

He walked over to Fawkes's perch and stroked his feathers, trying to calm down. Fawkes looked at his face and gave a sad cry.

"I know," Albus said to him, as if he could understand what he said. "There are many different kinds of monsters. Voldemort is one kind… Umbridge is another…" he paused for a moment before whispering quietly to his old friend—so that not even his portraits could hear—"And I'm another…"

**(Done! Why is it with every chapter it gets so hard? But hey, the first chapter for the New Year! I hope you enjoyed it!)**


	49. Falsehood or Retirement?

**Chapter 48: Falsehood or Retirement?**

"You have to do something about Peeves," Everard told him sternly that next morning. Albus wished that they wouldn't speak so loudly though… he felt as if someone had stuck a pulsing spike into his skull from everything that has been happening around here lately. And instead of staying in bed like he wanted to, he was now stuck listening to the hundreds of complaints about Umbridge. He wished he could get rid of her, she was quickly sucking away what made Hogwarts special… it's like she's taking all the magic about this place… and he didn't just mean the kind of spells that they do in class.

But he tried to bear with it as he turned through his copy of the Daily Prophet as he listened to Everard complain about Peeves.

"You know he's planning on dropping that bust of Paracelsus falling on top of the persons head," he said shaking his head. "A big heavy bust made of stone falling on someone? That is more than a joke."

"How did you hear that?" Dilys asked hurriedly, her hands on her hips. Looking like a mother who had been told that her child was misbehaving.

"Saw Potter and Nick talking," he shrugged. "Nick warned him not to go the short way to the Owlery because Peeves was there."

"Ah, so Harry's going up to send a letter to Sirius?" Albus asked, turning over yet another useless article in the morning paper about how he was going senile. But he was anxious… he hoped that Harry would have enough sense not to say too much… especially about using Sirius's name.

"Yeah, but I saw Umbridge running off to tell Filch something about Potter taking out a big order for Dungbombs?" he shrugged. "And then he ran off to the Owlery to see."

"Most likely Umbridge wanted to know what Harry was writing and who it was sent to," Albus said frowning. "Does she really think that she's fooling anyone?"

He sighed as he flipped open his paper… but his stomach sank when he saw the latest headline:

_SIRIUS BLACK SPOTTED!_

_"'__The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer, who murdered thirteen people with a single curse fourteen years ago, is currently hiding in London!'" _

Albus groaned as he finished reading the rest of the article. He had a sneaking suspicion to who this anonymous 'tip-off' was. He was about to throw the paper in the fireplace for more kindling when he then saw a small article that worried him just as much:

_TRESPASS AT MINISTRY_

_Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Laburnum Garden s, Clapham, has appeared in front of the Wizengamot charged with trespass and attempted robbery at the Ministry of Magic on 31st August. Podmore was arrested by Ministry of Magic watchwizard Eric Munch, who found him attempting to force his way through a top-security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak in his own defense, was convicted on both charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban._

Well this explained it. Sturgis was supposed to have met them at the station as part of Harry's guard; he remembered Alastor complaining about it. What was he doing though? Albus got up and threw everything but the small article into the fire. He paced up and down his office, trying to think as he read and re-read the words again multiple times, as if they would give him some kind of clue.

He knew that Sturgis had been on guard duty the last time that he saw him… but after that…? And if he was trying to get through a door…? That could only mean the Hall of Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries.

Why? The way he saw it there were only two possibilities… either Sturgis was a Death Eater, highly unlikely, or the more likely scenario… someone forced him to. He was on guard duty for the Order, so he couldn't defend himself without comprising what it was they were doing, or has been under an Imperius Curse, to investigate where they think the 'weapon' is hidden, so he might have been commanded not to defend himself, which is convenient for them because a member of the order takes the fall and is eliminated in the process.

Yes. A Death Eater came to investigate the Hall of Prophecy, found someone there and decided to use him to their advantage to perhaps try and test the other barriers between them and the weapon, because they obviously guessed that the Order was guarding the 'weapon', hence Podmore was an Order member.

He then turned to Phineas and told him to pass this message along to Sirius and to anyone else who was at Grimmauld Place to be extra careful.

"Why do you want me to?" he demanded.

"Because all you have to do is visit your other portrait and relay the message," he answered patiently, as if speaking to a child who didn't want to eat his vegetables. "It would be the quickest and most efficient way, Phineas."

Phineas glared at him before he huffed and walked right out of his painting.

"Can't we get rid of him, Dumbledore?" Dilys asked almost pleading.

"He's been a burr in all our butts since the day that he was put up here!" Dexter agreed. "Can't you move him to the dudgeons? I'm sure that he'll be happier down there!"

Albus shook his head, a slight smile tracing on his mouth at how everyone was nodding along with the idea. "I'm afraid not," he said. "Phineas may get on all of our nerves from time to time, but he was still once one of Hogwarts Headmasters. Besides, if we do move him, then he's sure to tell the Slytherins a few secrets that go on in here."

He spent the rest of the day reading useless letters from the Ministry, asking that he consider retirement. Albus rolled his eyes. He? Retire? Over his dead body. He smirked at that last part. Rather than go through all these, he threw the rest of the papers into the fire unopened, getting an unusually vindictive pleasure as he watched them curl and become ash.

Which was one of the only few things that cheered him up these days. He remembered how little sleep he had during the first war… and he knew that he would have to work even harder than that… because at least the Ministry was on their side then.

Trying not to think about war or any of this madness, he turned to the window so that he could watch the Gryffindors practicing. Though practice didn't last for as long as he would've liked. Soon, the Slytherins came out to harass them. While he couldn't hear what was going on, whatever they were chanting was interfering with the Gryffindor's concentration. He watched as Ron, who he was pleased to hear had been picked as the new Keeper, miss ball after ball.

Now, he wasn't sure exactly what happened… but eventually, the whole practice ended with Katie Bell being supported by Fred and George and being forced to leave the field.

"Did something happen to Miss Bell?" he asked Dilys a little bit later when he heard that Katie was now in the Hospital Wing.

"She lost a lot of blood," she huffed angrily. "She got a blood-nose out there and I don't know what those two monsters called twins gave her, but it made it worse. She's now taking a couple blood-replenishing potions."

Albus made a note to keep an eye on the twins for any future incidents. But it wasn't until the next morning that he got some more disturbing news.

"You mean to tell me that Sirius spoke to Harry through the fire again?" he asked Dexter calmly, though there was exasperation in his tone.

"Saw the whole thing," he answered eagerly. "He said that he was checking every hour so that he could talk to them."

"Every hour?" Albus repeated, half-risen from his chair. "Did anyone…?"

"Not that I'm aware of," he answered quickly. "If anyone did see him, I think the whole castle would know by now don't you think?"

"Yes," Albus said, slumping back into his chair. "Yes, that is true."

He turned to Phineas, "And are you sure that you told Sirius my warning from yesterday?"

Phineas yawned widely as if someone was boring him. "Of course I did," he muttered indigently. "I did your little delivery for you. It's not my fault that my worthless great-great-grandson doesn't listen to anyone."

"Black sure didn't seem concerned that he might've been caught," Dexter answered.

Albus heard Dilys faintly whisper to her neighbors, "I think I see the family resemblance here."

"What else do you expect that brat?" Phineas called back. "No sense at all! You think that he'd use that head of his. But nnnnnooooo…"

"Well, Phineas," Dexter said with a smirk. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear that you sounded a little concern for your worthless great-great-grandson?"

"Me?" he repeated loudly in outrage. "Concerned? Why would I be? What should I care if something happens to him? He's a disgrace! The fact that he has the name Black doesn't change anything!"

"He's just lucky that no one else spotted him," Albus sighed, breaking off the argument. "But I must have a few words with him about this in person. This is starting to get out of hand."

"He said that he wanted to answer Potter's letter," Dexter told him.

"Ah, yes," Albus said nodding. "Harry did send a letter to him about his scar hurting. What did you overhear?"

"Just that Black told him not to worry about his scar hurting him again," Dexter answered with a shrug. "Said that it really isn't much to worry about anymore."

Albus wasn't happy with that. Though he knew it was his orders to tell him something like that, he knew that this could only serve to frustrate Harry. And anytime that his scar hurt wasn't good news for them…

"Well, now he's back it's bound to hurt more often," Albus tried to reason with himself.

"Well, that's what Black said," Dexter told him. "That he really doesn't think that Umbridge had anything to do with it."

"Yes, I thought that Harry would be thinking it was like with Qurriell however, Voldemort doesn't need to inhabit another body now," Albus said, holding his fingers together and resting his chin upon them. "She has a vile soul, but I doubt that she's an actual Death Eater."

'_Though Remus might tend to disagree,'_ he added privately. And it was true; thanks to Umbridge and her anti-werewolf legislation, his life has been made even harder than it had been.

"Anything else important you need to tell me?" he asked.

"Well, Black told him about you all discovering that Fudge thinks that you're training students to take over the Ministry?" he asked, unable to hold back a laugh.

Albus shook his head. The depths that Fudge's paranoia has reached still made him feel close to laughing himself. Once upon a time he may have wanted that job, but he was wiser now than when he was an irresponsible teenager. He knew that it was dangerous for him and everyone else should he be trusted with too much power. He remembered how uneasy he had been when he had been made Headmaster. But he knew that it was still safer than working at the Ministry. He swore to himself that he would never work for the government… especially after what that desire cost him…

He shut his eyes… but opened them almost immediately when Ariana's dead, blue eyes stared back at him.

"Also, I think they got some letter from Percy Weasley," Dexter said, interrupting Albus's fear of that vision. "Just minutes before Black showed up. Apparently it made them sick."

Breathing hard through his nose he asked, though not really listening, "Do you know what it said?"

"Just that Ron said that Percy was the world's biggest git," he answered with a smirk. "Don't know what it said for sure but I'm guessing that he's still as idiotic as the Minister is."

Albus felt terrible for the Weasleys, hoping against hope that they would make up before something happened and they will be unable to do so.

"But apparently there's something going to be written about you in the paper tomorrow," Dexter told him. "At least that's what I'm guessing that's what the letter said."

"What else is new?" he asked calmly. "But I don't care what they saw about me. I've told you before, when you're old; you don't become afraid of people questioning your sanity."

"You know," Phineas said idly. "I'm sure that it's real easy to be brave when you're old… cause you could croak any day now."

Albus looked over at him, his eyebrows raised and smile on his face. "Maybe Phineas. You are just lucky that I can take a joke?"

"Who said it was a joke?" he asked back.

"For someone who is having his name dragged through the mud, you are taking it well," Dilys said smiling down at him before shooting a filthy look at Phineas.

"They're also concerned about Hagrid," Dexter said, drawing the attention back onto himself.

Albus lowered his head. He too felt concern for his friend, but he also knew that Hagrid could take care of himself. Madame Maxime made it back to her school just before it started, and had written to tell him that Hagrid had been doing just fine when she last saw him. Pushing down his anxiety, he nodded as he stood up… only realizing just how weary he felt.

"If there is nothing else…" he began but Dexter went on nervously before he could even finish.

"What?" Albus asked tiredly.

"Black said that he wanted to come visit them at Hogsmeade," he said quickly.

Albus stood up immediately. "Absolutely not! He's bound to get himself caught if he does something that reckless."

"It worked last year," Dexter tried to offer.

"But that was before the Death Eaters were all aware of his abilities," Albus said firmly. "He was almost caught on the train."

"Well," he said slowly. "Yeah, I see the point. That's what Harry said too and Sirius didn't like that. Said that he was _less like __his father than he thought_."

Albus shook his head._ 'Sirius,' _he thought. _'How can you say that? I know that you're frustrated with me, but don't take it out on Harry. Besides you shouldn't try and endanger him either."_

"That's stupid and selfish," Dilys said.

"Oh, I doubt that he was trying to put Harry in a bad spot," Albus answered. "He's just frustrated that he's trapped inside that house and he can't help. Sirius has been stuck in Grimmauld Place for several months now and the only reason he's still there is because Harry wants him to be there and he will stay there if Harry asks him to. However he still wants to get out and Harry isn't letting him, so you can't blame Sirius for feeling rejected and somewhat upset by it. Even the best of us can't resist trying to use another's emotions to get what they want."

"But that's still stupid," she said. "Men and their pride… and what does he intend to do if he got caught?! If the Auror's get their hands on him, he'll be given the Kiss for sure!"

"I know that," he answered, rubbing his sore eyes. "And Sirius knows that… but, like I said, he just wanted an excuse to get out. He knows better than that…" he left to go to bed, but not before adding, "At least I hope he does…"

*Morning*

The next day, Albus discovered what it was that was so special in the paper. What he saw made him feel sick to his stomach as he re-reading the paper that had a large photograph of Dolores Umbridge, smiling widely and blinking slowly at them from beneath the headline.

_MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM_

_DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR_

"Umbridge – Inquisitor?" said Minerva. She, Pomona, Severus, and Filius were there with him in the staff room as they stared at the cover.

"What does this mean?" Pomona asked at once. Albus could only shake his head as he read, _"__In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an __unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_"'__The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,' said junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. 'He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.'_

"Which parents?" questioned Pomona crossly, but Albus went on, _"__This is not the first time in recent weeks that the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, has used new laws to effect improvements at the wizarding school. As recently as August 30th, Educational Decree Number Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current Headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person. _

"Seems we were right about why Umbridge was instated," Albus said, interrupting himself, "but I don't see how that could possibly be classed as an improvement."

"Keep going," Filius squeaked promptly and Albus obliged, though none of what he read next made him any happier.

_'__That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,' said Weasley__ last night. 'Dumbledore couldn't find anyone so the Minister put in Umbridge, and of course, she's been an immediate success —'_

Pomona, who was currently having a drink of water, promptly spat it out and sprayed the entire table, fortunately Albus righted it with a wave of his wand.

"Sorry," she said, turning a little red.

"Doesn't matter," Minerva scowled. "I would've done the same. In what universe could that woman possibly be classed as a success? Unless they are talking about her ability to make the student's and our lives miserable, I don't see this as a success!"

"She's got the entire Ministry backing her up," Severus said softly. "Knowing how far she can go, I wouldn't be surprised if that was the definition of success."

_"'—__an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts.'_

"Well, she is definitely telling the minister something," said Severus coldly. "Everything he wants to hear… but he wants more so he is giving her more power to get that information and get it under his control."

_"'__This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the falling standards at Hogwarts,' said Weasley. 'The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect he fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.'_

"What?!" Minerva screamed out in fury, "You mean to tell me that toad is now inspecting us?! It's bad enough that she's turned one class into a joke, but now she's trying to do that to all of them! The ministry has some nerve! As if she would know the first thing about being a teacher."

"That's the point," Albus said calmly, though he too was furious at this. "They don't want the students to learn anything that they might consider a threat. If they had it their way, they would fire us all and bring in people like Umbridge in to teach."

"Why those spineless cowards!" Pomona yelled out bitterly.

"And the worst part is that it's the students who suffer," Filius cried out, having to stand on his chair to read over Albus's shoulder as if making sure that he was reading it correctly.

"And there's more," Albus said.

"Oh, I don't know how much more I can stand," Minerva said fiercely, but she quieted down to listen.

_"__The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts._

_'__I feel much easier in my mind now that I know Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,' said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. _

_'__Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and are glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.'_

_"__Among those eccentric decisions are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the employment of werewolf Remus Lupin, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid and delusional ex-Auror, 'Mad - Eye' Moody._

"Firstly," said Pomona defensively, "The students all loved Remus. And Hagrid's problem isn't his responsibility, but rather his… unusual teaching methods. And also, it wasn't even the real Alastor Moody who had been teaching them, it was an imposter, as the ministry knows full well… so really they are just spouting utter rubbish."

"Since when has the Ministry cared about something as trivial as facts?" Severus asked.

_"__Rumors abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts "'I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step towards ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose our confidence,' said a Ministry insider last night._

_"__Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts._

"I always did like them," Filius squeaked.

"At least not everyone in the Ministry is as paranoid and stubborn as Fudge," Minerva sighed.

"Little good it does us if Fudge is in charge," Severus muttered.

_"'__Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office,' said Madam Marchbanks. 'This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.'_

_"__(For a full account of Madam Marchbanks's alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page seventeen.)"_

Albus shook his head in disgust as he folded the paper up and threw it across the long staff table.

"Looks like we were right all along," Pomona said fiercely. "Fudge forced us to put up with her. Now, he's going to have his loyal lapdog here to spy for him. And when he hears something that he doesn't like, he'll just give her power to do whatever she wants to get rid of it!"

"What do we do?" Minerva asked Albus, who just stared ahead of him.

"The way that I see it, there's nothing we can do," Severus said coolly, pacing the length of the room as quiet as a shadow. "Thanks to Fudge, we can't get rid of her… not until the Ministry is forced to accept the truth. But that's about as likely as Umbridge turning out to be a good teacher. We're stuck with her."

"Dumbledore," Pomona asked quickly, "Surely there must be something we can do about it?"

He sighed again, "I am afraid that Severus is right. There's nothing that we can do about her unless the Ministry forces her to leave."

And that, as they say, was that.

Albus just had to tell the rest of his staff to put up with it as well as they could and to try not to make the toad, as Minerva started calling her, angry. Just try not to give her a reason to fire them. Later that morning, he learned that Sybill and Filius had both been the first to be inspected.

"How did it go?" Albus asked his portraits when they told him how everything went that evening.

"Well, Filius seemed to be as good as always," Everard explained. "Didn't seem to mind her being there."

"No, I highly doubt that she'll give a bad report on him," Albus nodded. "He has always been one of the most popular teachers here. No, it's Sybill that I'm concerned about."

"I don't think that it went good for Trelawney," Dilys said worriedly. "She's seems quite shaken up, at least that's what I overheard when her class left."

"I thought as much," he answered grimly.

"Umbridge's classes are getting worse," she went on. "Granger is still making disagreements in class. Said that she doesn't like how Umbridge is going on about _'teaching'_ them…" she made air quotations at the word teaching. "Umbridge didn't like that."

Albus shook his head, "And what else?"

"Well, she ah… mentioned that none of the teachers are giving them Ministry-approved methods except for Quirrell and that he would've passed… and ah…"

Albus groaned, knowing what must've happened next. "And?"

"Potter said something he should've have and now as another week of detentions," she said. Once again everyone looked thoroughly disgusted at what Harry was forced to endure.

"You think the kid would've learned a thing or two about her," he heard one of the random voices say. "He knows that if he speaks out like that in class what she's going to do."

"Some people never learn," Phineas commented in a smug voice.

"There are just some people in this world that cannot stand injustice and there is only so far that they can let slide," Albus said softly.

"Albus…?" Dilys questioned softly but he shook his head, already knowing what she was about to ask.

"Dilys, if there was something I could do, I'd do it," he said. "But like I said, if Harry won't come to me or any of the teachers, for help then I can't do anything to help…"

He hadn't told another soul about those evil detentions, especially not anyone at Grimmauld Place for he knew that some people such as Sirius and Molly would not take it well… but he finally had to tell someone…

Minerva had come in to give him the results for the inspections so far.

"Potter has landed himself in detention again," Minerva complained in indignation. "After everything I said to him about minding himself around that horrible old toad… but no, nothing. In one ear and out the other."

"You didn't punish him did you?" he asked looking up.

She raised her eyebrows at the question. "All I did was take five points from Gryffindor. Why are you…?"

Albus hesitated, but then told her the truth to behind the detentions. Once he finished, she looked positively horrified.

"Now, I know that you just want him to keep his head down because Umbridge is already having too much power and isn't afraid to use it," Albus said soothingly as she stared at him, her face bone-white. "And I know that you didn't know but…"

"Why didn't he tell me that?!" she demanded, disgusted at what she found out. "A BLOOD QUILL?! Those awful things are used only for binding magical contacts! Not for writing over and over again! Albus how could you let this…?"

"Of course I didn't just let this happen!" he said back, his voice calm, but eyes dangerous. "My dear Minerva, you honestly believe that I would willingly use something like this as punishment for students?"

Minerva stopped and fell silent at once. "I'm sorry," she said, breathing hard. "I didn't mean it… I was just…"

"I understand," he said nodding to her sadly. "I felt the same way. But the point I'm trying to make here is please try not to be too hard on him."

"But this is all the more reason that he needs to be quiet in class," she said at once. "The only way he will be safe is if he shows some restraint. Why hasn't he come to someone and told us about it? We would put a stop to it at once and…"

"I know," he answered. "But without him complaining about it, there's not much I can do about it," he said. "You should know what he's like by now. He won't come to anyone with his problems… the only people he seems to truly trust is Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley—and even then, I wonder how long he tried to keep it quiet from them."

She huffed angrily.

"I'm not any happier about this than you are, Minerva," he said firmly. "But if we try to interfere, Umbridge is only going to come down harder on the school. All she has to do is write to Fudge and he'll grant any request that she wants."

She frowned at him, still looking upset, but she didn't say anything as he pulled the list that she had brought with her towards him. He checked over it before he glanced up and asked, "I can see that you had been inspected today?"

"Yes," she muttered rather stiffly. "And if I had known about this, I would've given her a harder time on it!"

Albus could see that his deputy didn't make it easy for Umbridge… he could only smile at her comfortingly and hope that the cursed job comes into effect and gets rid of Umbridge as soon as possible.

*The Next Night*

He sent a couple portraits to keep an eye on Umbridges door to wait for Harry and follow him back up to the common room before they were to return. They had just reported to him that Harry had left and was now in bed. But they also mentioned that his hand was now bleeding so badly that he had to wrap it up in a scarf.

Albus ran his hand through his hair. He knew what the boy was forced to write: I MUST NOT TELL LIES. He also knew that the quill didn't use ink… rather Harry was forced to carve those words in his own blood while they are slashed across his skin.

Harry has not asked for help. He will not come for help… he will not because people keep driving him away. Himself especially… but he couldn't help but feel the terrible pain of failure inside him at the thought of what was happening within the walls of his school.

Neither Umbridge nor Harry knew that they are being closely watched. Albus shook his head, trying not to feel guilt. It wasn't his fault; Harry had been warned again and again to watch his temper. As well as trying to keep his distance from Harry, lest his presence encourage Voldemort to reach through the connection between the two of them and possess the boy. If he interfered then he knew that Tom would doubtless demand to confront him. No, that would be too dangerous.

Besides, interference would do little good. Umbridge would just get a decree from Fudge getting around whatever action he might take. Fudge is determined to destroy both him and Harry as well.

"Are you sure that he's in the common room now?" he asked Dexter as he stared ahead of him at the door.

"Yes," Dexter answered grimly. "He was with his friends for a little while before he went to bed. But the three of them did have an interesting conversation just now."

"Please tell me that Sirius didn't risk the fire again?" he asked, looking up at him quickly. He needed to have a few words with that man if that was the case.

"No," he answered and Albus relaxed a little. "But they were all upset that Potter wouldn't go to anyone about what she was doing to him."

"That's just how he is," he said sadly.

"Isn't there anything you can do to get rid of her?" Dilys asked. "She's breaking the law using that quill isn't she?"

"Fudge won't ever believe it," he said grimly. "All Umbridge has to do is say that she didn't do it and Fudge will believe every word she says. I don't know how many times that I have to say this…?"

"Well, they were just discussing doing it themselves," Dexter said. "Since that toad isn't helping them."

"And that's not vague at all," Phineas said snidely. "Do what?"

"What I mean is," Dexter said, glaring at Phineas, "Is that Hermione said that they should start teaching themselves Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Albus raised his eyebrows. "I can see that. But how do they intend to that that if you know the answer? It's one thing to read about how to do a spell in a book, another to have a proper teacher showing them how to do it. Though at this rate, it would probably be better if they do that… they'd learn more."

"Well," he said, and Albus was surprise to see a little smile on his face. "Hermione said that they do already have one."

Albus was surprised. "Remus?" he asked. While that is true, he was busy with the Order… and at the moment he was busy trying to convince the werewolves to join their side. But as he watched Dexter smiling and shaking his head, he suddenly had a dawning idea of who Hermione was talking about.

"No," he smiled. "She means Harry."

Albus raised his eyebrows and asked pleasantly, "She wants Harry to teach them Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Well, he couldn't be any worse than Umbridge," Dilys said with a grin. "Heck, I think even a real toad would be a better teacher than she would."

"He would be the best student equipped for the job," he nodded slightly to himself.

"He seemed to be upset about that though," Dexter said, his smile fading a little. "Ron and Hermione were talking about everything's he's done, and it just seemed to set him off."

"I see," Albus said a little bit disappointed, though he could guess why that would be. "Did he say why?"

He shrugged again, "It's just that he kept telling them that he wasn't a teacher, but they seemed to keep smiling about it and he finally lost his temper. Personally, I don't see why he was so upset…?"

"The smirks are probably what did it," Albus said. "He's going to think that they aren't taking that seriously. Are they going to just forget about it?"

"Well, he's calmed down and said that he'd think about it before they went to bed," he finished. "I don't think that we'll hear anymore about it tonight."

"Not now, anyway," Albus said, he glanced at his watch and decided to go to bed as well, but he had to admit, the idea did cause a lot of thought.

*Two weeks later*

A couple weeks had passed since that night, and things seemed to have quieted down. He heard that Harry had finally finished with all his detentions, though that was a small comfort in the toad's rein. She was lurking around the castle almost constantly, eavesdropping on all sorts of conversations, both from students and the staff. Anyone heard talking about the events of last year, or of Voldemort were quickly punished, telling them that they were just being lied to.

That giggle she gave whenever she was around was really starting to get to him and to the rest of his staff… especially to Minerva. He often saw her glaring at Umbridge's retreating back and he knew her well enough by now to know that she was longing to curse her.

Umbridge had examined Pomona just the other day and he heard his Herbology teacher talking to Sinistra, saying that she was very close to locking her in Greenhouse 3 with the Venomous Tentacula. Filius, who was normally such a patient person, was now making cold remarks about Umbridge whenever they had staff meetings…

Oh, he didn't even want to think about those long hours in the staff room anymore. Whenever they had a meeting, she would sit there, smiling smugly at them all as if she knew something that the rest of them didn't. That was when she told them all, in that high voice that annoyed them to no end, that she had come up with a new set of rules for the students.

"We already have rules in place, Dolores," Minerva said stiffly, and Albus could see that she was forced to call her by her first named bugged his Deputy Head. He knew that she much preferred _'The Toad Woman'_. But he was proud that she hadn't given in to her deepest desire and cursed her yet… though he couldn't say much for the others who didn't try nearly had hard.

"Ah, yes," Umbridge said in that disgustingly sweet voice. "But, I'm afraid that the Minister," she said that last word with respect and finished, "Agrees with me in that the students here are given too much freedom and not enough discipline. So he gave me the power to make these…"

Ah yes… Umbridge had been coming up with Education Decrees. Educational Decrees are laws created by the Ministry of Magic to set or modify standards at Hogwarts. The Ministry started the idea of using these decrees to suppress and outlaw behavior of which the Ministry did not approve. At least that's what Umbridge said. Though, in truth, they were all just an excuse to strip him of his headship of the school and give it to Umbridge. Most of these Decrees were placed to reinforce ridiculous rules that suit Umbridge's sadistic, intruding, and old-fashioned nature. Here are the Decrees that she had come up with since school began.

Educational Decree Number One: (students are banned from discussing "the uppsetting events of last year")

That made Albus's eye narrowed and anger boiled in the pit of his stomach.

Educational Decree Number Two: (students are encouraged to be forthcoming regarding suspicious or outlawed activities)

Educational Decree Number Three: (students will be punished if found with a Spell-Check Quill in their possession)

Educational Decree Number Four: (students are required to dress appropriately and are discouraged from wearing anything besides the required school attire)

Educational Decree Number Five: (the tagging of students' owls is mandatory)

Educational Decree Number Six: (boys are to keep their hands outside their cloaks for they can't be trusted with anything they have in their pockets)

Educational Decree Number Seven: (students are to be harshly punished whenever they prohibited spells in the halls)

Educational Decree Number Eight: (there are strict restrictions on the usage of the school library and common rooms)

Educational Decree Number Nine: (students will be expelled if found in possession of sweets from "unauthorised suppliers")

Educational Decree Number Ten: (confiscation of wands for being 'naughty')

That last one made them all feel sick.

Educational Decree Number Eleven: (it is forbidden for any student to use magic to change the students' physical appearance)

Educational Decree Number Twelve: (students are forbidden to broom flight, except for the exception being authorized Quidditch practices)

Educational Decree Number Thirteen: (exploding bonbons are forbidden to explode)

They all had to hold back laughter at that. They are called 'exploding' bonbon for a reason. Just because someone sent her a box of those and they exploded in her mouth, doesn't mean that she has to try and ban it.

Educational Decree Number Fourteen: (books that haven't been authorized by the Ministry will be confiscated)

Educational Decree Number Fifteen: (students are forbidden to leave the common rooms in the evening)

Educational Decree Number Sixteen: (pets are to be confined to all common rooms and dormitories and owls to the owlery. No exceptions)

Educational Decree Number Seventeen: (games are forbidden in the hallways during study hours)

Educational Decree Number Eighteen: (the eating of sweets are forbidden in the hallways)

Educational Decree Number Nineteen: (students are forbidden from crossing the grounds after classes)

Educational Decree Number Twenty: (the playing of music is banned during study hours)

Educational Decree Number Twenty-One: (punishes anyone who doesn't do their homework)

Educational Decree Number Twenty-Two: (staff members are discourage to encourage creative thinking)

All these ridiculous laws were quickly trying everyone's patience. He was also getting sick of telling everyone that he had no control in these matters, and that he couldn't get rid of Umbridge just as badly as they did. It was only going to be a matter of time before life at Hogwarts becomes unbearable for everyone and they all just finally leave rather than put up with it.

But after those two insuffering weeks, Albus had gotten some surprisingly good news. News that had cheered him up a great deal; despite the fact that he was forced to deal with Dolores Umbridge and the regular meetings with the Ministry.

"They were in the library and I overheard them talking about it," Everard said sounding upbeat. "Granger asked Potter about teaching again."

"And what did he say?" Albus asked interested.

"Well, he didn't fly off the handle again," he said. "That's a good sign."

"I can tell than that he's thought a great deal about it then," he said nodding. "What did he say? Will he do it?"

"Well, he still seemed on the fence about it to tell you the truth," Everard explained. "But when she mentioned other people and he wasn't so sure about that."

"Yes, I didn't think he would be happy about that," Albus said.

"Please, the whole school thinks he's insane," Phineas said. "Why does she think that they'll want him to teach them?"

"Phineas," Albus said warningly.

"What do they have to lose?" Armando said. "I mean, it's not against the rules and it couldn't hurt to go and check it out."

"Oh, it may be against the rules for now," Albus said. "But I highly doubt that Umbridge will be happy when she finds out about this. Did they say when they were going to do it, Everard?"

"Don't know for sure," Everard answered, "But I did hear Granger telling a few people that they are going to meet and talk about it during the next Hogsmeade trip."

"That would be wise," Albus said. "Especially with her lurking around. Did they say where?"

"Just an idea," he said, but he was smiling a little. "But Granger seemed to be toying around with the idea of the Hogs Head."

Albus blinked before he chuckled. "Indeed? Well, if that's the case, then I'll be sure to speak with my brother to see how it goes," he said. He looked to Phineas and asked him to go to Headquarters and request that he ask someone to keep an eye on the three of them during the next trip into Hogsmeade.

"And please, Phineas, make sure that Sirius knows that I don't mean him," Albus sighed. "He's still furious with me for talking to him about using the floo to speak with them."

Grumbling, Phineas left, cursing all the way to Grimmauld Place.

*Hogs Head a few days later*

Once evening came, Albus left the castle, glad to be able to have some peace from the world and some fresh air in his lungs. He bade good evening to Madam Rosemerta when he passed her throwing a drunken man out of her pub, and apologized for telling her that he would be in the Hogs Head instead.

When he entered the shabby pub, he saw Aberforth pouring himself a drink at his bar.

"I thought I told you!" he barked, his back to him. "I'm closing up! So get out or I'll…"

"It's good to see you too, Aberforth," Albus said pleasantly.

Looking up, Aberforth turned to see him there. "Oh, it's you," he said in a bored tone, as if he wasn't speaking to anyone important. This was what he always said whenever he came to see him. Albus smiled serenely and walked over. "May I join you?" he said.

Aberforth gave him another bored look but he got out a dusty bottle of Firewhisky.

"What brings you here?" Aberforth asked. "Aren't you busy with those Ministry morons?"

Albus gave a forced smile before he said tiredly, "You don't know the half of it. I sometimes have to wonder whether or not it's all worth the trouble. But enough about that. It's just that I heard a very interesting rumor today. Apparently a large number of my students were here this afternoon?"

"Is that a crime to have customers?" he asked, pouring himself another large glass.

"I am merely curious to know what had happened here," Albus said patiently, taking a sip of the burning liquid.

Aberforth grunted, "Never did know when to keep your big nose out of things. Fine, about 25 to 30 kids were here this afternoon alright. Saw that Potter kid who's causing such a fuss with the Ministry. And judging from what I heard, I think I like the kid. Anyone who makes the Ministry this uncomfortable can't be all bad."

He chuckled darkly as Albus smiled.

"This should be good," Albus said. "Just what did they say?"

"Just that they met with a bunch of other youngsters and I can't remember ever seeing more people in here," he went on. "Too bad all they wanted was butterbur. No imaginations what so ever."

Albus smiled. He was sure about that. Friday and Saturday nights draw quite a crowd at the Hogs Head, however he doubted that Aberforth has seen quite that many students enter at one time, and will no doubt suspect that they are up to something. But he wasn't worried, for he knew that his little brother would never give someone underage Firewhiskey.

"And can you please tell me what they were talking about?" he asked curiously.

"Something about going against the ministry and teach themselves how to fight or something…" he grunted as if he wasn't concerned.

"Please explain," Albus said, knowing that if he pushed to quickly then Aberforth would never tell him anything.

"I've got to say," he said looking at him. "The things that kid seems to go through. Basilisks, Dementors, and then that mess with the tournament… if I didn't know you better; I'd swear that it's all strange coincidences."

He gave him a hard look and Albus did his best not to think back to Ariana. No, it's not good to mention her. Whenever her name came up, it always ended up in an argument with his brother and that's the last thing that he wanted here.

"Well, I saw a couple kids there that weren't to pleasant," Aberforth went on. "One kid I wanted to curse him to get him to shut up, and I wasn't even talking to him. I think his name was Smith or something…"

"And what did he say?" Albus asked.

"Why do you care?" Aberforth challenged.

"Because if word of this gets out, then I'm sure that Umbridge will want an excuse to expel them all," Albus sighed. He glanced around at the empty bar and then said in an undertone, "Umbridge is slowly taking over the school. The students and my staff are all completely miserable. She's doing her best to keep everyone under her thumb and anyone who fights back is punished harshly. And if word of this gets out, then I'm worried that she's going to punish them."

"The way I see it they haven't done anything wrong," Aberforth said coolly, but Albus could see a little bit of worry in his eyes. Though he may deny it, he knew that Aberforth had always liked kids. "Kids come up with clubs all the time."

"Yes," Albus agreed. "However with Umbridge here, it's only going to be a matter of time before she makes this illegal. You mark my words, if she finds out about this, then she's going to expel all those students if she has the chance. So please…"

"Fine," Aberforth snapped. "If you really want to know, that Smith kid wanted to know what happened at the end of the tournament, and Potter told him off." He suddenly smirked, "He's got a temper that kid. I like that. Anyway, they talked on for some time about that hag up at the castle. And I'm guessing that the rest of the school don't know much about Potter's antics the way that they all talked about them?"

"No," Albus stated. "We try very hard to keep that quiet. Often the truth is even more unbelievable than the many rumors that often abound when Harry does something. And he has a hard enough time without all that getting out as well."

Aberforth shrugged as if unconcerned, "Well, the kid didn't seem to like being in the spotlight," he went on, his face getting a little red from the drink. "That's not something you'd expect to see in such a big shot huh?"

"Yes, that's one of the many things that I find remarkable about him," Albus stated, raising his glass in a silent toast.

"Still to let a kid teach that bunch?" Aberforth asked, his bushy eyebrows raised, "If you ask me, you need nothing short of a miracle to get them to learn anything. Some of them looked pretty hopeless to me."

This time it was Albus who raised his eyebrows. "They are children. And I do agree that they do need a proper teacher… but Harry has had more experience than most on Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Hmm," was all he had to say, as if he highly doubted that. "And to sum it up. They also talked about places they could have it, haven't decided on that yet, and one kid seemed to suck up and agree with everything they said. Found him annoying. But they seem almost eager to fight."

Albus sighed and shook his head. "That I hope will never happen."

"Still how could you let that hag in?" Aberforth asked smugly, obviously pleased that he had made such a mistake. "She's sure not to popular is she?"

"I know," Albus sighed. "And I don't know how many times I've said it, but I can't get rid of her even though I want to. Believe me, if I had it my way, I would've gotten rid of her long before now. Not only is she working for Fudge, but they are now refusing to teach the students anything. This is only going to cost innocent lives."

"I see that they're still as paranoid as ever," he said taking a long gulp. "Is it true that they think that you're trying to form a private army with kids?"

Albus actually laughed at that. "Did they say that?" he asked.

His brother nodded and Albus explained, "Though I think that some of my students are more reliable than half the Ministry officials, the answer is no. I don't want them to fight if I can help it."

"One girl was a bit cookey in the head if you ask me," Aberforth said, using a finger to make circles around the side of his head. "Talked about the Minister having an army of Heliopaths."

Albus smiled, having a good idea to who said that. "I doubt that."

"So they don't exist?" he asked him.

"Actually, they do," Albus said thinking it over. "They are just very rare, the best way to describe them would be a conscious form of Fiendfire. They don't dwell in Britain because the weather is far too damp for them to survive, but in other dryer countries such as deserts, they thrive. Though while I think it is unlikely that Fudge would have an army of Heliopaths, I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't have a group of people who support him and work behind the scenes to make sure his will is enforced. Umbridge is one of them after all. Am I guessing that it was a young blond Ravenclaw who suggested it?"

"Looked like one," he answered, holding up the empty bottle of Firewhiskey so that he could peek in to see that it was already empty.

Albus chuckled, so far, from his impression of Miss Luna Lovegood thus far, he would have to say she is extremely intelligent and will often have very accurate perspectives but likes to hide it under nonsense. A truly special young lady…

"And they didn't say where they were having it?" he asked, just making sure.

"Nope," Aberforth said brightly. "Just that they'll let everyone know when they find one. Oh, but the bossy girl who first came in with them said they all had to sign something. To agree not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what they're up to."

Now, he highly doubted that was just a normal contract that Miss Granger had them sign.

"Did she say what will happen if they do?" Albus asked curiously.

He shook his head. "You mean she did something to the paper? And if they tell then something bad will happen to them? Damn, why didn't I think of that? But no, she didn't. Shame… I think it would've given me a laugh you know?"

Albus forced a laugh as well as he quickly finished his drink and just told Aberforth to put it on his tab.

"You know," Aberforth called after him in an annoyed voice. "I expect you to pay up your tab sooner or later!"

"I promise that I'll pay you back for everything," he said cheerfully. "And thank you for the information, Aberforth, I really appreciate it. And about my offer from over the summer… are you still sure you don't want to rejoin…?"

He meant the Order but Aberforth shook his head. "I'm too old to be fighting now." Aberforth looked at him darkly. "Why are you always so interested in what Potter does anyway? He's none of your concern now is he?"

Albus, his hand on the doorknob, froze. "I don't know anymore…" he said, more to himself than to his brother as he stared ahead of him at the door, looking but not really seeing it. "I just… I thought I knew… but now… I'm not so sure."

"Well, that's about as clear as mud," Aberforth said, his face unreadable as he stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

Albus had no idea what he was saying and just shook his hard to get those thoughts out of his mind before he left. "It's nothing," he said, holding his hand up in farewell.

But as he left the Hogs Head, with Aberforth's eyes on his back, he suddenly had the strangest sense of Déjà vu.

*The Weekday*

After the weekend, Albus went to his office to see something that concerned him greatly. At first, he thought that it was just another one of those pointless Educational Decrees. Albus shook his head. Another one? What now? It's not allowed to walk and breathe at the same time? But as he picked it up and read it, he bit back a groan.

He saw this coming a mile away.

_BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS_

_All student organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded. An organization, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No student organization, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organization, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four._

_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor_

He shook his head. "For the love of all that's good…" he hissed under his breath as he said loudly and sarcastically. "Why not just snap everyone's wands in half? That'll fix it."

He normally wasn't sarcastic like that, but this drove him over the edge. She knew about the defense group… there was no other explanation here.

He sat there, his fingers laced together as he leaned forward, trying to think of something. There could've been anyone listening in to that conversation at the Hogs Head. Or maybe one of the students who had gone there had told her… he remembered what Aberforth said about a couple of them who didn't look so trustworthy.

Forcing himself to go down to breakfast after that, the first thing he saw in the Great Hall was a small group of people surrounding Harry and his friends.

He watched as Harry's face nodded firmly to the others and Albus just knew that they were still going to do it. But that's what worried him… thanks to Umbridge, what they were doing now was against the law… not just some silly school rule.

Though he was worried… he agreed that they _should_ do it. Because knowing this stuff could save lives; who knows how long before Voldemort will come out in the open, once that happens it could be too late to start teaching them, because people, innocent people and children, will be dying. He knew that was much more important than some stupid ministry decree any day…

But later that night he discovered that it wasn't the only thing at stake, this also meant the Quidditch teams. Minerva came to him and told him just what she thought of this idea… though he wondered how she really felt about this…

"I mean honestly, the nerve of the woman, the god damn nerve. I'm all for rules and discipline Albus, as you very well know, but they have to be fair, fairness is what counts, if you just do it then how will they ever learn what's right and wrong, the morality of it all. High Inquisitor indeed, high-opinion of herself, that's the problem. Why doesn't she just go and break her neck and…"

He raised an eyebrow as she stopped pacing and turned to face him.

"Dumbledore, I really don't know how much more of her I think I can take," she said.

Albus gave her a sad look. "I know. Believe me, I know. But I also know that you have the patience of a saint, Minerva. I mean, you've been behind almost every decision I've had for years…"

She raised her eyebrows, a slightly amused smile tugging on her mouth, but she went on, "She's insufferable. It's only going to be a matter of time before something terrible happens to her."

But Albus didn't miss the slightly hopeful tone in her voice.

"Ah Minerva…"

"Don't try to pacify me," she snapped at him.

"Minerva, I hate this to," he said firmly. "But until the Ministry gives her leave, we can't do anything."

Minerva shook her head. "Also, though this doesn't surprise me, she's also checking the owls!"

"How do you know that?" he asked coolly. "Did you walk in on her as she was searching the owls?"

"Funny," she said darkly. "Potter came looking for Professor Grubbly-Plank after breakfast," she explained. "Left class because his owl showed up after all the others with an injured wing. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened…"

Albus groaned. "She's desperate for any kind of information on Harry," he informed her. "She's now determined to do whatever it takes to get him expelled. Did Harry tell you were the letter came from…?"

"London," she said nodding and they both understood that she meant Sirius. "Wilhelmina is taking care of his owl as we speak. But I just hope that Potter knows that the owls are being watched."

"Do you know what the message said?" Albus asked.

"It's from Sirius most likely," she said. "I don't know what it said. But I do hope that Umbridge doesn't figure that out. I mean, it wouldn't be exactly difficult to re-seal the scroll by magic… and if anyone's watching the Floo Network… but I don't really see how we can warn him not to come without that being intercepted, too!"

"But they can't know it was Harry that Sirius was contacting, so they won't know who to look for," Albus said, though he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of that. "And he is in a protected house, so the location wouldn't show. But I agree with everything you said," he added at her concerned look, "I hope that Sirius doesn't try it again."

She gave him a sad look. Was it pity…?

"Very well," she said, though she didn't sound happy at all. "I'll find something to take my anger out on. But if she keeps forcing more of these ridiculous laws then I'm going to jinx her mouth so that she'll never be able to talk again."

And when she left, Albus could've sworn that he heard her planning other horrors made especially for Umbridge. But if it made her feel better, who was he to stop her?"

He smiled fondly at the closed door before he looked up at his usual eyes and ears of the castle. "Anything interesting you wish to report?" he called to them.

"Nothing much," Armando wheezed. "But that Malfoy boy is asking for trouble."

"Oh, no," Albus sighed. "What now?"

"He's bragging about how the Slytherin team has already been allowed to continue playing while the other teams haven't," Armando said. "He's not making any friends here."

Albus shook his head.

"You'd think that he'd learn by now," Dilys whispered to her neighbors, who nodded wholeheartedly.

"And he's pushing his luck," Armando went on. "Went on to say that Arthur Weasley is going to get sacked and that the Ministry is going to cart Potter off to St. Mungo's any day now. He mentioned that there was a special ward for people whose brains are addled. Longbottom heard him."

Albus groaned, "And I guess that Neville didn't take the news well?"

"No doubt in my mind that he would've attacked them if the others didn't hold him back," he panted.

"Draco talks a big game, but he honestly doesn't have a clue to how the world works," Albus whispered to himself. "He's going to get into big trouble if he doesn't shape up."

He was greatly concerned for young Draco. He was raised in an environment where he had been told over and over that he was superior to others because of his blood. He's used to getting whatever he wants and walks the corridors of the school as if he owned the place. He thinks that being a Death Eater will mean that he'll be able to do that anywhere once he leaves Hogwarts. But the truth is that he will be forced to do countless horrendous things. And with Voldemort back, it was only a matter of time before he was recruited.

"I see," he answered dully. "Anything else you need to tell me?"

"Just that the toad inspected Snape as well," he finished. "And apparently, Trelawney got her results back. It didn't sound good."

Albus winced. "I almost feel bad for her. Though I think that Minerva most likely showed her up during _her_ inspection. Thank you all for telling me this. Now please if you all could bear to do one more thing?"

"What?" Dexter asked curiously. "Potter's back in the common room. Why do you want us to follow him?"

"Not just Harry," he said. "Keep an eye on Umbridge for me as well. I want you to report anything you see her doing that you don't like. I trust you all to take care of it?"

"Hard to do that," he heard Everard said as most of them called out in groans and insults. "She's got a bunch of other portraits on her side as well."

"I know," he said. "But if she is half as rotten as we think she is, she's only going to get worse as the year progresses." He shut his eyes for a moment. "Don't let her out of your sights if you can help it."

*The Next Morning*

"You won't be happy," Everard told him as he came back into his office, going through the usual dozen complaining letters from the teachers. "I was watching the Weasleys showing off their projects for awhile in the common room, but Black came through the fire again."

Albus groaned, feeling close to screaming. "About what?" he asked exhausted.

"He told them about how Dung was keeping an eye on them," he answered. "And Harry really isn't happy with you."

"I would prefer that he didn't mention that," Albus said wearily. He hadn't expected them to send Mundungus to watch Harry, but after their 'conversation' over the summer, he was now taking his guard duties quite seriously.

"I think he's afraid that you'll really kill him if he doesn't behave and do what you tell him," he answered.

"I might if he runs off for some old cauldrons when he knows that someone's life could be at stake again," he muttered, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Now, what did Sirius say?"

"Well, he said that they heard about the secret Defense group," he said. "And he promised to pass on a message from Molly saying that Ron and the rest of her children are forbidden to join. Though she admits that she's got no authority over the rest of them, but she begs that they don't do it either."

"I doubt that will work," Albus said. "Doing what they're told not to is what teenagers do best."

"And Black is backing them up completely," Everard spoke up. "So that's not going to help."

"I would've thought that Sirius said no," Albus said. But he had a bad feeling that, out of desperation, Sirius was now urging the kids to do things that he would've done if he was in their place. "Anything else before I start the day?"

"They're all still trying to figure out a place to hold these—lessons?" he said that last word as if unsure of what else to call them. "But then Umbridge was looking through the fire before they could come up with anything good."

"She didn't…?" Albus began worriedly.

"No," he answered and he felt relief at those words. "Black escaped just before she caught him, and I saw the kids run for their dorms before she could look in. But I don't know how much she's figured things out."

"Please," Phineas yawned. "That toad? You need a brain to do that."

Albus made up his mind. "That does it, he can't risk it again," he stood up and headed to the door.

"Where are you going?" Dilys called after him.

"We have a meeting at Headquarters anyway," he explained. "I must tell Sirius that he cannot risk himself like that again."

But as he left, he added under his breath, "If only I can make him take this seriously enough."

*A few days later*

Albus paid a trip to Grimmauld Place and forbid Sirius from trying anything that reckless again. Which, sure enough, ended in a big argument. He felt that familiar headache coming back to him. But it wasn't until Minerva came to him not long before the first Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"I know that she's using her position to play favorites to her old House, Minerva," he sighed to her. "And I know that she's especially unfair to your Gryffindors. But please, do try not to let her provoke though, I would miss you awfully if she forced you to leave out of spite. It's only got to be a matter of time until she comes up with a decree to force you to leave should you complain."

"Oh, I can handle her on my own," Minerva said. "But she refuses again and again to allow the Gryffindors to play. It's obvious that she's doing this so that Slytherin will win."

She looked at him pleadingly. "If my team… if the Gryffindor team cannot practice then how are we going to play? It's unfair… the Slytherin team have full privileges and have been allowed to play right away."

Albus nodded, knowing how important this was to her and the rest of Gryffindor House. "Yes," he nodded. "They will have my permission of course, and I'll speak to Umbridge about this myself."

"Thank you," she said gratefully. "I don't think I could stand to see Slytherin win just because they have that toad fighting their matches for them."

He saw her to the door and bowed her out, promising that he would talk to Umbridge about this later tonight, though he also had a bad feeling that this wasn't going to stop her. And somehow, his bad feelings always came true.

He remembered what people said about him retiring, and he had to wonder if being here was worth these terrible headaches. After some thought, he made up his mind.

He'll retire…

The day _after_ he dies…

**(Another chapter done. Hope you all enjoyed it.)**


	50. Forbidding Miracle

**Chapter 50: Forbidding Miracle**

But later that night, just as he got back from having to listen to Umbridge pointing out how all these Educational Degrees will better benefit the school—a conversation that ended with him longing to curse her until her face was unrecognizable. If her idea on making the school better is using torture as punishment, then he didn't want to know how low she would sink. However, he did get the first shred of good news he had for a long time.

"I think that they finally found a place to hold those Defense lessons," Everard informed him gleefully, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. "I overheard it in the Gryffindor common room."

"Oh?" Albus asked excitedly. "And where is that?"

"Well, that nutty house-elf Dobby let slip about the Room of Requirements to Potter," he told him at once. "He was bringing back his owl and asked Potter if he was having nightmares because he was muttering in his sleep. He sorta fell asleep in the common room while he was doing homework. Anyway, Dobby asked if there was anything that he could do to help him, and Harry asked if he knew a place where they could hold Defense lessons and Dobby came out and told him about it."

"I see," Albus said, his heart feeling a little lighter at the thought that the students weren't going to be taking Umbridge's corrupted ways without a fight. The last thing that they needed was for the students to become nothing more than mindless sheep to rule over.

He had grown quite fond of the little elf and glad that he was able to help the students out.

"That's it?!" Dilys demanded briskly. "You mean to tell me that all you have to say to that is _'I see'_? What about all the trouble that they're going to get in if they're caught?"

"School rules wise, they're not doing anything wrong," he said smiling. "It's perfectly acceptable to hold a club with a teacher's permission. And they have my full approval even if I haven't told them. But, personally, I agree that it would be best if they don't get caught. And the Room of Requirements is safest place… it's there if you are in great need of it… well, they certainly need it now."

"Harry said something I didn't really get," Everard then went on. "Harry asked something about the room and chamber pots…?"

Albus blinked in confusion for a moment before he realized what he was saying. He burst out laughing, knowing full well where he got that idea.

"I see," he smiled as they looked at him in bewilderment. "It's a bit of a private joke I'm afraid. But no matter, did they mention anything else?"

"Just-just that Dobby offered to take Harry there right now…?" he said, still looking at him puzzled, wondering what the joke was.

Albus raised his eyebrows. "Please tell me that Harry didn't go?" he asked, dreading the worse.

"No," he answered. "He just asked Dobby how to get into the room and he went to bed after that.

He sighed in relief, glad for that. If Harry had been caught now, then he would've been in more trouble than ever—especially if Umbridge ever found out about the room. It looks like Harry is finally learning some patience.

*Days later*

After that interesting bit of information, he always made sure to have at least a couple portraits keep an eye on the seventh floor until, one night, he heard about an unusual number of students going up there and disappearing.

"So tonight is the first meeting?" he asked with anticipation. "How many have showed up?"

"Looks like everyone who came that day in the Hog's Head," Dexter explained. "Kinda lost count. But it doesn't look like anyone went and blabbed to Umbridge about it… not yet."

"Yes," Albus nodded. "That is something I'm glad for. How does it appear to be going along so far?"

"Last I saw, the trio were looking over some kind of map," Everard explained. Albus vaguely recalled how Barty Crouch mentioned a certain map last year, and wondered if it was the same one. "And then they found the door. But you know that we can't go in there and see what's happening though, there aren't any paintings in that room; but I did see them all go in."

"Good," Albus said nodding. "Just keep watch on the door and let me know when they leave."

"They are doing things right don't you think?" Dexter smirked. "Very sneaky this whole thing."

Albus smiled back. "Let's hope they can keep it up."

*Later*

Albus had lookouts all evening, wanting to know when the students were done and heading back up to their dorms. It was starting to get late, and he was worried that they might have forgotten about the time. But just when it was starting to get late, Dexter came back.

"Yeah, it's over," he informed him. "And let me tell you that they all left looking proud of themselves. They came out in pairs so I don't think that they'll cause too much notice."

"And it's just before curfew as well," Albus nodded in relief, checking his watch. "That's good. Hopefully, Umbridge won't notice anything unusual."

"Also, I think it was a success," Dexter informed him. "I heard Granger talking about it… she and Weasley were arguing about disarming each other all the way back to the common room."

Albus smiled. Yes, he always knew that Harry had what it took to be a natural leader and teacher. All he needed was a little extra push here… he knew now that it was a good idea to have him teach.

"That's good to hear," he answered. "I'm interested to see what they have in plan next?"

"You know?" Armando laughed, "If they're enjoying it, and learning something useful, then maybe you should have Potter take over the teaching from Umbridge."

Albus laughed with him as Phineas snorted. "Well, maybe in a few years. Though that is something to consider later on for him."

*Weeks later*

For the last few weeks he had been keeping a very close watch on the students and their little meetings, wondering just how they were going. From the reports that he had been getting from the rest of his portraits, they always left that room looking perfectly happy… as a matter of fact, it reminded him a little of how they acted whenever they left Remus's classroom.

He could only wish that everything else in the castle was going as smoothly.

Issues between Gryffindor and Slytherin had always been hostile, but with Umbridge here, those feelings have seemed to have increased.

Umbridge seemed to be going out of her way to make things as miserable as possible for the other three Houses—especially for Gryffindor, seen when she had refused to allow the Gryffindor Quidditch team to practice until he—himself—had pressed the matter.

Everyone was taking sides and it was starting to shape up to be a brutal game this time around… just as bad as it had been two years ago to decide who would win the cup between the two teams.

It was bitter cold the day of the game, but he hadn't been able to go due to his increasing work. But he went down to the breakfast table early that morning, hoping that the thrill of competition would lift everyone's spirits. He especially loved the lion-head hat that he spotted Luna Lovegood wearing and was almost tempted to get one himself.

However, there was something that bothered him as he headed up to his office again. When he passed the Slytherins, they were all wearing a crown-shaped badge.

_Weasley Is Our King_

With an unpleasant feeling that this could mean nothing good, he headed upstairs, trying not to think about it.

He had been able to focus only on getting his work done for only a short while. But, all-too-soon, he could hear the shouts coming from the field outside his window. He could hear the shouts, cheers, and jeers echoing through the grounds loudly along with the commentary.

Soon, the singing came.

_"__WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN, HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN…"_

He couldn't believe that Umbridge and Severus were allowing this. He got up and opened the window to hear and see what was going on. "- and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell tanking up the pitch -" cried Lee Jordon's voice. But it was difficult to hear anything through the singing.

_"__WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN WEASLEY IS OUR KING…"_

He watched as the teams were blurs on the field, but the Slytherins kept singing louder and louder.

_"__WEASLEY IS OUR KING, WEASLEY IS OUR KING…"_

_"__WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN…"_

This went on for some time and just when Albus was about to slam the window shut, he heard Lee shouting out that the Gryffindor Seeker had caught the Snitch. Sighing in frustration, but glad that it was over, he shut the windows and went back to his desk.

Just how far were things going to go before they got completely out of hand? This treatment of the Houses—this anger that Hogwarts shared was only going to tear everyone apart. He didn't want to think anymore… he felt as if someone had taken a mallet and was now smashing the inside of his head.

It only got worse that night when Minerva came up to talk to him.

"Banned!" she shouted furiously. "That horrible old toad has banned Potter and the Weasley twins from playing Quidditch again! Now we have no Seeker and no Beaters!"

"What happened?" he asked wearily.

"Apparent Malfoy provoked them," she said in outrage. "He was angry that they won and, I don't know what he said, but Potter and George Weasley attacked him. I was handling it, I was going to give them detention, but that old toad was there and she has a new degree…"

"Another one?" he interrupted, putting his hand up to his eyes, wishing that he could just start this year over.

"Yes," she said furiously. "It's obvious that she's favoring the Slytherins! She's furious with me for pushing that the Gryffindor team be re-formed and she now has the power to strip pupils of privileges!"

"Oh, no," he hissed. "And we both know that she's going to be enjoying that! It's only going to be a matter of time before she takes away everything and end up making the student's lives here miserable."

"I think that it's a little late for that," she barked. "What are we going to do? As much as it pains me to have them off the team, this is an even bigger problem! If Umbridge can control all punishments then…?"

"I don't know," he sighed, now feeling sick to the stomach at the thought of how much Umbridge was getting away with. "I just hope that the jinxed job gets rid of her as soon as possible."

"If you want I think that I can speed that along," Minerva suddenly spoke up, a definite hopeful tone in her voice as she fingered her wand gently.

He let out a rather high laugh and told her that if Umbridge became anymore powerful then he might have to take her up on that offer. Even after she had finally left, he stayed up late into the night, a million thoughts and feelings going through his mind, but constantly slipping through his fingers like water… slipping away before he could pin them down with words.

It wasn't until he was starting to doze off at his desk did get some bit of good news.

Hagrid had finally come back.

*The Next Day*

The sun was hardly up by the time that Albus was already waiting up and waiting for his old friend to arrive.

A few minutes later, there was a loud, but familiar, knock on the door. Smiling, he called, "Come in."

Hagrid came limping into the room, and Albus felt his smile fade off his face at once. "Hagrid," he said in concern, standing up.

Hagrid's hair was matted with congealed blood and his left eye had been reduced to a puffy slit amid a mass of purple and black bruising. There were many cuts on his face and hands, and he was moving gingerly, and he couldn't help but wonder if there were some broken ribs.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," he said, a wide smile on his face, despite all of this. "It's good ter see you again after all this, sir."

"Good morning, Hagrid," he said, frowning a little, slowly sitting down carefully. "But what happened to you, Hagrid? I'm guessing the giants weren't feeling very appreciative of all your hard work?"

"It's nothin', sir," he answered at once. "I just ran inter some trouble on my way back. It's nothin'."

Albus gave him a stern look, but knew better than to ask. "I see…" was all he could say. "Well, I heard a great deal from Madame Maxime…"

"Oh," Hagrid said, looking up in pleasure. "And how is she?"

"Very well," he assured him, forcing a smile—feeling the muscles in his face working hard. With all this chaos happening, smiling was becoming a rarer and rarer thing. "She returned to her school just before it started so I don't think that anyone noticed anything strange. She told me a little about your trip, but I would like to hear your side of the story as well. How did it go? I know that it didn't go as well as we had hoped…?"

"It was a hard trip," he sighed, and Albus felt concern as one of the cuts started bleeding again.

"Hagrid," he said worriedly, "If you wanted to go to Madam Pomfrey then…?"

"It's nothin', sir," he repeated again. "Really."

Albus didn't believe him but could see that he didn't want to talk about it. So instead he asked, "Now, what can you tell me?"

"Well, we didn't have ter much trouble finding them," Hagrid said. "Bigger than I though' they'd be."

"You don't say?" Albus asked, a smile playing on his mouth.

"Yeah, it was jus' the pair of us. An' I'll tell yeh this, she's not afraid of roughin' it, Olympe. She never complained once."

Albus chuckled. "Yes," he said. "She may enjoy the finer things in life, but she's also a very strong-willed person. Fearless I would say…"

"We chanced a bit o' magic after we got into the mountains an' it wasn' a bad journey from there. Ran inter a couple o' mad trolls and then there was this vampire…"

He went on with the story of their journey north and how they finally found the giants.

"Sounds like there's hardly any left," Albus sighed when Hagrid went into details about how few giants were left.

"Yeah," he muttered unhappily. "A few more years and I doub' they'll be any o' them left."

Albus felt a great deal of sadness. After all, it was this ridiculous prejudice that was causing them to stand on the brink of extinction.

"We found the Gurg like you told us, sir," he went on. "And we gave them the gifts."

"I take that they liked what we gave them?" Albus asked hopefully.

"Oh, yeah," he nodded at once. "They were all impressed. It all went down a storm once they understood that we weren' going to hurt them. We took our time like you said."

Hagrid continued but what he heard only got worse and worse.

"So…" Albus said softly, turning to look out the window at the snow falling. "The Death Eaters are already making their move."

"Yes," Hagrid said grimly. "I'm sorry professor Dumbledore, sir. We tried our bes' bu'…"

Albus shook his head. "No," he answered softly. "You did well, Hagrid. I'm only sorry that you got hurt in the process."

"I'll be fine," Hagrid said, holding a massive hand up to block out the bleeding under one eye. "It's nothin' tha' I can' handle."

"And I can't say that I'm completely surprised to hear about the Death Eaters," Albus finished grimly. "After all, Voldemort—" Hagrid flinched, "—can be very persuasive when he wants to be. And the giants have been persecuted by wizards for generations so now they don't trust us at all."

He gave Hagrid a sad look. "Yes," he answered grimly. "My hopes for the giants joining our side were never high. But why are you back so late?"

"It's nothin' you need to be concerned about, professor," he said quickly.

Albus highly doubted that. If he hasn't been attacked then why on earth is he in the condition that he is in then? He gave Hagrid a searching look, wondering what on earth he was trying to hide from him. He could only hope was that he hasn't got another dragon hidden somewhere.

"What's with this Umbridge woman doin' here?" he suddenly asked.

"Ah," he spoke up softly. "So you already know about her?"

"She came down ter me hut last night jus' after I got back," he said at once, sounding frustrated.

"I don't know if you remember, but she was once a student here. Her name is Dolores Umbridge," Albus said, feeling as if her name was poison on his tongue. "However, you should hear some of the names that the rest of the school is calling her."

"Dolores Umbridge?" Hagrid said, sounding thoroughly confused. "So she does work for Fudge?"

"Yes," Albus answered bitterly. "But now Fudge has forced her onto us. Inspecting the staff and if there's anyone she doesn't like, she will force them out. Sybill is already walking on thin ice."

He hesitated and then asked Hagrid, "What about your classes Hagrid? Do you already have them planned out or…?"

Knowing Hagrid, the creatures that he had in store will probably be nothing that Umbridge would approve of. Yet, he was also aware that if he sticks to safe and harmless animals, they will probably say that he isn't teaching them to a satisfactory level. If anything it is better that he teaches as much as he can, in hopes that he can have an impact before he leaves, which is unfortunately almost a certainty.

"Oh, don' you worry abou' that, I've got a great load o' lessons planned," said Hagrid enthusiastically. And then he went on and on about all the creatures in the forest and his lesson plans.

Albus wasn't sure about that, but they walked down to the great hall for breakfast for breakfast, pretending to feel a happiness that seemed to have left him.

*A couple days later*

With concern for Hagrid, he awaited for some portraits to report to him on what they overheard this day.

"Well, I overheard her trying to come up with some ways to make Hagrid look bad," Everard said in disgust. "I watched her making a list on her clipboard as she headed outside. And if she's hold true to them, she'd been interrupting his classes and talking to Hagrid like he didn't understand English."

Albus could only shake his head. "For goodness sake… he isn't stupid, she is probably just doing it so that she has something bad to write on her little clipboard. Do you find out what his lesson was about today?"

"Thestrals," he answered. "Overheard some Gryffindors talking about them."

"And that is a very good subject," Albus nodded approvingly. "And advanced for fifth years. Not that it will mean much to Umbridge. Isn't she aware that she is only meant to be observing the classes, not disrupting them?"

"I guess not," he answered with a shrug.

He tried not to think about how bad things were getting, and instead, tried to focus only on the fact that the holidays were coming. Christmas was slowly coming onto the castle, yet he couldn't help but feel an odd since of foreboding. He was glad the almost all the students were going home to their families this year… less for him to worry about. He also happened to get a personal letter from Molly, asking if it would be alright for Harry to come to The Burrow for the holidays.

He had a feeling that Harry desperately needed a break from the castle and personally agreed, though he had a feeling that Sirius wouldn't be so happy about that.

"So tonight was the last meeting before the holidays?" Albus asked Dexter.

"They just finished," he smirked.

Albus noticed his good mood and had to ask, "Is there something wrong?"

"No," he grinned. "Nothing wrong."

Realizing that he was missing something, he asked, "What's so funny?"

He suddenly burst out laughing, and now Albus was sure that something was up. Suddenly smiling, he waited and then Dexter laughed, "I heard that the boy finally kissed a girl. You know that lovely Miss Chang girl?"

Albus blinked before he also started to laugh. "I see… that is a nice change to hear. I had a feeling that he had liked her for a long time."

"Where you spying on them?" Dilys asked, frowning a little at Dexter.

"Not quite," he smirked. "I just overheard Potter telling his friends back in the common room. I couldn't help but overhear."

Albus laughed, his heart feeling a little lighter. "Ah…" he said fondly. "Young love…"

"What?" Dilys called with a smirk. "And we don't even get to hear about it? What a rip off! I think I would've enjoyed hearing that."

"But now that I think of it…" Everard smirked, "He doesn't sound like the kind of guy who has too much experience with girls. Especially, since he's fifteen and he still hasn't gone out on a date yet."

"Well, he's been having a rough time since he got here," Albus said grimly. "And of course, Miss Chang must be having a difficult time as well. Especially after what happened last year…"

"Right," Phineas yawned. "Wasn't she that Diggory kid's girlfriend? Wonder what she feels about going out with the brat who saw him killed?"

"Phineas?" Albus called in warning. "I don't want to hear another word about that. "This must be awkward for them both. However, that's none of our business now is it?"

"Oh, let's just forget about it for now?" Armando asked wheezy. "It's the last night before the holidays right? Let's not have to think about work for now how about it?"

"Why don't we have a good party to celebrate the break from that toad?!" Everard declared. "I think we can all use one after listening to all the problems this year!"

"I have to work though," Albus reminded them, gesturing to the papers in front of him. "Though I agree that it does sound like a wonderful idea."

"Well, we can party while you work," several of them called out. He laughed and, for some reason, he forgot all about paperwork.

*Late that night* 

It was just a shame that the good mood didn't last long. It was some time after midnight when he got the knock on the door. Bewildered, he looked up and his paintings, who were all making as much noise as they could, all fell quiet and pretended to be sleeping.

Using a little wandless magic, he caused the door to open, and he was surprised to see that it was Minerva there in her nightdress.

"Oh, it's you, Professor McGonagall… and… ah," he stopped when he saw who was with her. Harry and Ron were there… but he could tell right away that something was wrong. Harry was a pale as a sheet, dripping in sweat like he had been running for miles, and there was a wild haunted look in his eyes… a panicked look that couldn't have meant anything good.

He quickly looked back to Minerva before Harry noticed that he was looking at him.

"Professor Dumbledore," she said uncertainly, as if unsure of how to explain what was going on. "Potter has had a… well, a nightmare. He says…"

"It wasn't a nightmare," Harry suddenly interrupted at once.

Minerva frowned a little as she turned to look at Harry, but she didn't reprimand him—which surprised him. Instead, she said, "Very well, then, Potter, you tell the Headmaster about it."

Still looking pale, and shaking a little, Harry stepped forward, but Albus merely glanced down at his own interlocked fingers, determined not to look up.

"I… well, I _was_ asleep…" said Harry at once. "But it wasn't an ordinary dream… it was real… I saw it happen…" He heard Harry taking a deep breath, "Ron's dad - Mr. Weasley - has been attacked by a giant snake."

The words seemed to just echo in the air—however, inside Dumbledore's heart it felt as if it was being ripped in two. He didn't dare so much as glance at him as he leaned back, trying not to let the panic take over. He had to make sure of this…

He then asked Harry very quietly, his gaze up on the ceiling, how he had witness this.

"Well… I don't know," said Harry, now sounding angry, "Inside my head, I suppose -"

"You misunderstand me," Albus said, suddenly surprised at his calmness. He frowned for a second, trying to figure out how to put it into words. "I mean… can you remember — er - where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?"

He could feel Harry's eyes on him. There was silence before the boy said quietly, "I was the snake… I saw it all from the snake's point of view."

Albus knew that his worst fears where here. He always knew that Harry had a connection to Voldemort—but if he saw it from Voldemort's perspective than it is more likely to have been a real occurrence than just a nightmare. He then said in a sharper tone, "Is Arthur seriously injured?"

"Yes," said Harry harshly.

Then there wasn't any time to waste. He stood up, so suddenly, that they all jumped in surprise. But he ignored them all before he turned to his portraits. "Everard? And you too, Dilys!"

They're eyes were open at once and gazed down at him eagerly.

"You were listening?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Everard nodded just as Dilys said, "Naturally."

"The man has red hair and glasses," he informed them both, knowing that they were in a race against time. If the snake was Nagini, then the injuries that she could've dealt would've been severe. Unless it was already… he shook his head, trying not to think of that and instead told Everard to raise the alarm and make sure that he was found by people who they could trust and know would help.

He watched until they left before he moved towards Fawkes.

"Everard and Dilys were two of Hogwarts's most celebrated Heads," he stated almost mechanically to the rest of the room. "Their renown is such that both have portraits hanging in other important wizarding institutions. As they are free to move between their own portraits, they can tell us what may be happening elsewhere…"

"But Mr. Weasley could be anywhere!" Harry cried out at once.

Oh, he already knew where Arthur was, it was his turn to stand guard tonight… there was only one place he could be. Pretending not to have heard him, he said, "Please sit down, all three of you. Everard and Dilys may not be back for several minutes. Professor McGonagall, if you could draw up extra chairs."

As Minerva did what he asked, he ran a single finger down Fawkes's feathers and the phoenix woke up at once, staring up at him, ready for action.

He then said quietly to his friend, "We will need… a warning."

Fawkes blinked once in understanding before he disappeared in a flash of fire.

He could feel Harry's eyes on the back of his head, but he didn't pay attention. Somehow Harry can see into the Dark Lord's mind, so what would happen if the Dark Lord found out and tried to do the reverse and see into Harry's mind, or perhaps somehow use him to get to himself? He wasn't going to risk it.

He then went to pick up a silver instrument from one of the many shelves and carried it over so that he could see if his theory was correct. This particular object was used to show him his thoughts in a more physical form. Simply by tapping it with his wand, he watched as the little puffs of green smoke were created. He watched closely, trying to think hard of what he needed to see.

It was only a few seconds before he watched as the smoke thicken and turn into the shape of a snake head, it's mouth wide, revealing fangs.

'_Of course, it follows… I don't like this. He will have realized then… Harry…' _he thought to himself apprehensively. The snake represented Voldemort… the snake was searching for something. But he wasn't the snake who attacked Arthur… it was Nagini—Voldemort was possessing her. But how? He no longer should have that ability once he got his body back. That snake wasn't normal… "Naturally, naturally… but in essence divided?"

He watched as the smoke began to shift and split into two snakes instead…

He bit back a miserable sigh as he tapped it again and watched as the snakes disappeared. As he put it back, he became lost in thought again. Voldemort and Nagini were connected somehow but in what way? He knew that Tom could speak Parseltongue, but he seemed to have more control over her than usual…

"Dumbledore!"

Albus glanced up to see Everard, panting for breath and mopping his brow. "What news?" he asked urgently.

"I yelled until someone came running," he explained, looking uneasy, "said I'd heard something moving downstairs - they weren't sure whether to believe me but went down to check - you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. Anyway, they carried him up a few minutes later. He doesn't look good, he's covered in blood, I ran along to Elfrida Cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left -"

So it was true. Arthur was in great danger…

"Good," he said just as Ron was staring from him to the painting and back again with a terrified look. "I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive, then -"

That was when Dilys came running back, coughing for breath, and told them that Arthur was now at St. Mungo's.

'_At least they have found him before it was too late,' _he thought. _'Hopefully that means that there's still time.'_

"Thank you," he said gratefully, now turning to Minerva and telling her to bring the other Weasley children here. They had to get these kids out of here now before attention was brought to them. And especially if Umbridge found out…

"And Dumbledore - what about Molly?" Minerva asked just as she reached the door.

Albus told her that Fawkes would let her know after he kept looking out for someone else coming to the office. However, he had a feeling that she might already know that something was wrong if she was still up and watching that clock of hers. He knew that she had a habit of staying up late and watching it whenever Arthur or Bill were keeping watch on the Hall of Prophecy.

Once she nodded and left, he went looking for an object to use for a Portkey. Once he found an old kettle, he cast his spell to take them to Grimmauld Place. Not only was it the safe place for them at the moment, but he knew that Sirius would be more than happy to have the house full again.

He then looked over to Phineas and called his name loudly. When he pretended to ignore him, the others were all looking over at him with annoyance and also began to call him awake.

Finally, Phineas—the drama queen he always was—jerked up and asked in an uncharacteristically polite tone, "Did someone call?"

"I need you to visit your other portrait again, Phineas," he said, hoping that Phineas wouldn't make things difficult like he always did. "I've got another message."

"Visit my other portrait?" said Phineas in a reedy voice, giving a long, fake yawn and his eyes looking around at them all. "Oh, no, Dumbledore, I am too tired tonight."

That was when the others all started shouting at him.

"Insubordination, sir! Dereliction of duty!"

"We are honor-bound to give service to the present Headmaster of Hogwarts!"

"Shame on you, Phineas!"

"Shall I persuade him, Dumbledore?"

Phineas merely rolled his eyes and gave a long-suffering voice, "Oh, very well, though he may well have destroyed my picture by now, he's done away with most of the family -"

"Sirius knows not to destroy your portrait," Albus stated, though he knew that if he had the chance, then Sirius would've destroyed it long ago. "You are to give him the message that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured and that his wife, children and Harry Potter will be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?"

Phineas yawned and repeated, "Arthur Weasley, injured, wife and children and Harry Potter coming to stay. Yes, yes… very well."

Just as he huffed out of his portrait, Minerva came in leading the other Weasley children—all of them in their pajamas and looking scared.

Ginny Weasley turned immediately to Harry and asked, "Harry - what's going on? Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad get hurt -"

He turned to her and said, "Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix. He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than The Burrow. You will meet your mother there."

He knew that the most important thing to do right now was to get them out of here before Umbridge came.

"How're we going?" asked Fred Weasley, looking shaken. "Floo powder?"

"No," Albus answered him, "Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey." He nodded his head over to the kettle that was waiting for them. "We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to report back… I want to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you -"

But at that moment, there was a familiar flash of flame followed by the single golden feather. He caught the feather, knowing that they were almost out of time.

He muttered softly to himself, "It is Fawkes's warning…" he then glanced up at Minerva, "Professor Umbridge must know you're out of your beds… Minerva, go and head her off - tell her any story -"

Minerva didn't need to be told twice as she turned and almost ran from the room.

Everything seemed to be happening at once. For no sooner had she left, Phineas's usual bored voice spoke out from behind him, "He says he'll be delighted. My great-great-grandson has always had an odd taste in house-guests."

Not a moment too soon, Albus then called for Harry and the Weasleys to come take the Portkey before anything else happened.

As they gathered around him, he asked if they had used a Portkey before, when they nodded, they each reached out to touch the kettle.

"Good. On the count of three, then… one… two…"

It happened in a fraction of a second: in the minuscule pause before he could say three. He felt Harry looking up at him, and he suddenly looked from the kettle, directly into Harry's face. It was the first time that he looked at him directly in months… he could see the scared, confused look in his eyes.

But then the vivid green flashed and for a brief second he could've sworn that they looked red… a flash of hatred was seen there. Realizing what was happening, he said, "… three."

He stood there, even after they left. His expression was completely blank, hiding all emotion from everyone else. Even after Minerva and Umbridge both came into his office, Umbridge demanding to know what was happening. He couldn't say anything at first… fear clutching at his entire being.

*Early the next day*

The rest of that night had passed almost painfully. With Dilys keeping an eye on what was happening at St. Mungo's, he worked hard trying to come up with excuses for Umbridge to where the five students went, and to the Ministry on why Arthur was where he was when he was attacked.

Fawkes had sent Molly a warning, but she had to wait until the hospital contacted her as to not cause any suspicion, before she went running off to her husband's side. She sent to him a message saying that he was still alive, but he could see the tear-stained paper and felt guilty for having Arthur go through all this.

It was hours later when he got the good news. That Arthur had pulled through and should make a full recovery. Feeling relieved, he decided to pay Molly a visit and went over to Grimmauld Place.

Molly had answered the door, tears of happiness in her eyes as she let him in.

"I can't stay long, Molly," he informed her, glancing anxiously at the door to the kitchen. "Where is everyone?"

"Sirius is in here," she said leading the way, "And the children are all in bed. It was a big scare for everyone. They're sleeping now…"

Glad that he wouldn't have to face any of them, he nodded his head politely to Sirius, slightly concerned at the woe begotten look he had. Like he had developed the habit of drinking regularly. But he didn't say a word about that as he turned to Molly, who was still talking and cleaning up the table.

"They were all up all night worrying," Molly said, "I sent them all off to bed, we'll all go visit Arthur later once they wake up. Oh, I can't tell you how scared I was when I was told, I didn't know how I was able to sit there and wait for St. Mungo's to send word. I wanted to rush in there as soon as you told me. Thank goodness for the Healers. They said that he lost a lot of blood, but that he was found early enough to prevent any lasting harm. Yes, they all said that he should make a full recovery."

"That's good to hear, Molly," he said sincerely. "I am glad to know. But tell me, did Arthur say anything to you on what happened.?"

"He said that he dozed off while he was standing guard," she said, wiping her eyes. "When he woke up, there was that giant snake! He panicked and tried to attack it, and that's when it bit him."

"Nagini," Albus nodded with a frown. "Yes, I had a feeling that's the case."

"But Dumbledore," she said turning to him. "How was Harry able to see it? Your message said…?"

"Dumbledore," Sirius interrupted, frowning suddenly, turning to look at him with a deadly serious look in his eyes. "That's something I'd like to know too. What is happening to my godson? He told me what he saw last night… but what he said doesn't make any sense!"

"I know," Albus said, turning to look away. "It's what I've been afraid of."

"What?" she croaked out.

He sighed as he looked back to her. "Harry and Voldemort—" she flinched, "Are connected. Up until now, Voldemort hadn't been aware of this connection."

"What do you mean _'up until now'_?" Sirius barked. "You mean he knows now?"

Albus gave them both a sad look. "Listen to me," he said softly. "Ever since the summer before last, Harry started having these dreams. But, as far as I'm aware of, this is only the third time that it happened. But the thing is, these dreams aren't really dreams. They're flashes of being inside Voldemort's mind. While quite strange, these dreams appear to be what I shall call "Connection Dreams" because they are the result of a telepathic link between Harry and Voldemort. Harry had a vision in which Voldemort had possessed his pet snake, Nagini, and used her to break into the Ministry of Magic. And because of that, Harry was able to see what was happening last night."

"But why is that?" Molly demanded.

He ran his hand through his white hair. "As a result of Voldemort's attack Harry when he was an infant, the cursed scar flares up at odd times, and Harry awakes from certain dreams in great pain. The scar is a connection to Lord Voldemort, which gives Harry access to Voldemorts feelings and emotions and ultimately his thoughts and activities while awake and especially while sleeping."

"But why is that?" Sirius demanded.

But Albus couldn't answer. Sirius looked devastated. It was what they had all feared; that Harry's mind was in danger from Voldemort's influence. Molly stared at him miserably, but Albus could only shake his head. "Only theories… nothing more than that."

He turned to leave, but then Sirius said, "What Harry said… he said that for a second he wanted to attack you?"

Albus didn't look at him, but he stopped to listen.

"He said that just before they left by Portkey, Harry felt like the snake again and his scar hurt when he looked at you. He said that he was close to attacking you," Sirius said fearfully. "What is this about? What does this mean?"

Albus didn't move. _'Harry…' _he thought anxiously. His eyes glanced up to the ceiling, trying to work out exactly what was going on inside his Harry's head; knowing that the boy must be upset about this. He wouldn't at all have been surprise if Harry was sitting awake right now and wondering what was happening to him.

"I see," he said softly.

"That's all you've got to say to me?" Sirius demanded angrily. "Give me some straight answers for once. I want to know what's wrong with my godson?"

"I'm afraid that I can't do that, Sirius," he answered, his voice empty of all emotions. "For I don't know myself."

He then left after that, but he knew that his worst fears were correct. From what Sirius said, it only confirmed what he knew. Voldemort realized that there was a connection between them, and perhaps was now trying to use it.

"I know," he told himself. The snow was thick and deep as he took a long walk across the Hogwarts grounds and around the lake—his thoughts a million miles away from here.

'_We both know what you have done to yourself in order to be immortal, Tom,' _he thought, as if hoping that Tom could actually hear him. _'Even if we are able to kill you, we couldn't hurt you as much as you have hurt yourself. You may have your body back, but unless you make amends, you will never be able to save your soul.'_

He stopped and stared out at the frozen lake. "You're such a fool, Tom," he whispered, his breath become a soft mist in the air and he watched the wind blow it away. Tom may believe himself as a God… he knows how to make a person suffer and break them. He uses this to his every advantage… he's about the furthest thing from a God… more like the devil.

Feeling ashamed of his own thoughts, he decided that he would finish up his work in his office and leave the castle for a few days to get out of his head, and get more work done for the Order. But for now, he just wanted to sleep.

Almost dragging his exhausted body up the stairs and to his office, Dilys was already there waiting to give him a message.

"They just walked in," she confirmed for him. "They went to go visit Arthur and they all arrived safely. I just thought that you'd like to know?"

"That is good to hear," he said softly. "And I'm equally glad to hear that Arthur is doing alright. Let me know when they leave. Oh… by the way, is there any news on Boldrick Bode?"

She shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid that he's going to be in there for awhile yet, he's still in bad shape."

"I'm not surprised," he said grimly. He knew the cost of touching a prophecy…

He rubbed his exhausted eyes. He had been trying so hard to avoid the boy at all costs. But when they took the Portkey, for that moment, he could've sworn that he saw Tom looking at him. What Sirius said only confirmed what he had feared. Voldemort is now aware that he can use Harry. There was no other choice, he had to do his best to sever all ties with him as well as making sure that the boy learns methods to block his mind.

He glanced over to Phineas and said, "When Harry get's back to Grimmauld Place, I'd like you to pass on a message to him."

"What?" he called grumpily. "First I'm passing on messages to my worthless great-great-grandson, but now to that brat?"

Albus gave him a stern look. "It is important," he said firmly. If Albus knew Harry as well as he thought he did, then he could guess what Harry would do if he suspected something like this.

"I want you to tell him to _'Stay where you are'_," he answered.

Phineas threw him a filthy look but was curious enough to ask, "You think that he's going to go somewhere?"

"I can guess what's going on inside his mind," Albus confirmed. "I want you to make sure that he stays at Grimmauld Place."

Phineas looked irritated, but he left.

"Why are you concerned that he might be going somewhere?" Armando's voice asked. "Surely he knows that it's too dangerous for him to leave?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure that he does," Albus answered vaguely. "He is almost as reckless as his godfather. And if he thinks that Voldemort is possessing him, then he wouldn't want to be around the others."

"He's worried that they'll do something?" he asked concerned.

"No," Albus said, turning to look at him, "Quite the opposite."

It was a short time later when Phineas returned.

"Potter has a message for you as well," Phineas called with a smirk. "He says _'thanks for nothing'_!"

Albus wasn't surprised at this surge of anger. He knew that Harry must be furious with him.

"Do I want to know?" he asked Phineas as the other portraits let out cries of anger.

"Well, he looked ready to leave," he said with a long yawn. "He was halfway to the door when I arrived. I gave the message and he looked ready to kill you."

"It seems that we are about to witness a display of his temper," he said grimly.

"It seems that Harry really needs to talk to you Dumbledore," commented Dilys worriedly, "I hope that whatever reason you have for ignoring one of your students like this is a good one."

"I don't like doing this to him either," he said. "But I don't have a choice in the matter. What happened last night proved to me that me being around him is dangerous to him. My very presence is going to do much more harm than good. Especially now that Voldemort knows about the connection."

"I know that I say this a lot, but I've always hated brats," Phineas went on loudly. "Young people show absolutely no respect to their betters. You think that the kid would show a little more gratitude to all you do. But no, nothing."

"Enough Phineas, please," he sighed. "I'm exhausted and have a headache now. Listening to you complain isn't helping."

Phineas spluttered and was about to snap back at him, but Albus was in no mood. "I finished all the work I needed to, so I'm going to bed. After that, I'll be leaving the castle for probably most of the holidays. Thankfully, all the students have left the castle, along with most of the staff… it was sad being in this almost empty castle… but he had more important things to worry about.

He sighed, thinking longingly of his soft bed waiting for him. But before he left the room, his thoughts went back to Harry. He felt sympathy for him… possessed or not doesn't matter, those visions must be as terrifying as anything and he couldn't blame Harry for being scared of them—nor furious with him.

"Phineas, just keep an eye on Harry for me," he said tiredly. "I don't want him thinking for a second that he should leave that house."

And he left after that, not even caring about the loud complaints from the Slytherin Headmaster.


	51. Leaving with a Bang

**Chapter 51: Leaving with a Bang**

The holidays had come and he was enjoying a very quiet, peaceful Christmas. He knew that he should enjoy it while he got the chance, for his work, both inside and out of Hogwarts, was starting to pile up.

He had Dilys keeping an eye on St. Mungo's to see how Arthur was fairing and to report anything she found suspicious. Just recently he heard that since the Healers were having such a hard time getting the wound to close, so Arthur decided to try out some Muggle remedies… in this case, stitches.

"Well that should keep him amused for awhile," he chuckled at Dilys.

"Why would you want to sew someone's skin?" Dilys asked with a shiver. "That's a bit barbaric isn't it?"

"Muggles had been using it for years," he told her with a slight laugh. "And I know that it is a very good method to use on non-magical wounds. Though I doubt Molly will be happy when she hears about it."

He laughed at the thought of the Weasley parents having a long talk about this later on; and then he asked, "And Harry?"

"He seems to be doing better," Dilys informed him. "At least he looked more cheerful than the last time I saw him. I think that spending some time out of the castle and away from Umbridge had done him a world of good."

Albus nodded, glad for that small bit of news. He folded his hands together and thought back to what he saw over Christmas… he couldn't have been sure—but for that brief moment, he could've sworn that he saw a shadow of Voldemort behind those emerald green eyes. Harry had no idea to what was happening to him… or at the very most, only a guess.

Albus had not enjoyed it in the least, distancing himself from Harry. He knew that there was a strong possibility that Harry would never trust him again, and that he may even come to hate him for this isolation. He didn't want Harry to think that he was distancing himself for his own benefit, when it was the opposite. He was doing this to protect _him_… he had suffered enough as it was.

He had long since suspected that Nagini's essence was divided - that it contained part of Voldemort's soul, and that was why it was so very adept at doing his bidding. This also explained why Harry could see so clearly through the snake's eyes, just as he could see through Voldemort's.

He forced those dark thoughts out of his mind as he heard a knock on the door. Surprised, he called, "Come in."

Severus strolled into the room and Albus noticed a particular piece of paper in the Potions Master's hands; he knew right away what this was about.

"You're back early, Severus," he commented causally, as if he had been expecting him—which in a way—he was.

"Just what is the meaning of this?" Severus said darkly, holding up the letter. "You cannot be serious about this. You want me to teach the boy Occlumency?"

"Severus," Albus said softly. "I know that he isn't your favorite student. But you know as well as I do that Voldemort is finally aware of the connection between the two of them. This connection between them is only going to grow stronger over time. And Voldemort is sure to use this against us. Harry must be taught how to close his mind and who better to teach him than you? And 'the boy' also has a name, Severus… one that his mother gave him. You can use it."

A moment's silence followed this but Albus could feel Severus' resistance.

"The boy," he said, sneering a bit as if he hadn't heard a word that he just said, "Must be taught Occlumency… but why by _me_?"

"Yes, Severus," Albus nodded, sighing. "Harry must learn to control himself and his mind. If he can learn how to shut his mind to Voldemort, he can protect himself." He looked at the potion's master meaningfully.

"I refuse," Severus said sharply. "I have to deal with that impudent boy enough as is in class. He's too much like his father… No, I will not spend more time with him. You may find him engaging, why don't you do it?"

Albus sighed, expecting this."Severus, I know too much. But, for the time being, just being near Harry will put him in danger…"

"I will not teach him," Severus said adamantly. Albus turned his attention to Fawkes, who chose at that moment to come flutter to his arm. As he stroked Fawkes slightly hot feathers he continued to observe Severus.

"Harry will not know how to control himself at first," he said softly. "But if I know him as well as I think I do, then he should be able to master this." He remembered how hard he had worked to learn the Patronus Charm. The biggest problem was that he knew that this form of magic was best used with people who were able to keep their emotions under control… and he knew that Harry had a hard enough time just keeping his temper under control.

Albus shook his head. "It will help Harry control his own mind and stop anything which Voldemort may try. With this kind of connection, then he could use it to plant false images into Harry's mind… maybe even try to possess him. This we can't allow… not while we can prevent from ever happening. If Harry learns Occlumency sufficiently then he will be able to protect himself."

Severus glared at him. "But why must I be the one to teach him?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Who better?" Albus asked. But there was also another reason. He knew that Severus wouldn't change his mind about Harry. As far as he was concerned, the fact that Harry looks like James was enough to keep his grudge alive. But maybe if he could see more about Harry's past, see that he's not the kind of person that he's always painted him, then maybe Severus could finally leave the past behind.

"Please Severus," he said softly. "Aside from me, you are the only other person who can teach him. If it bothers you so much, you can tell Harry that he must refer to these lessons as remedial potions."

Severus smiled cruelly at that last thought, before he asked, "And nothing I say will get me out of this detestable task?"

Albus shook his head and he could've sworn that he saw a muscle going in Severus's forehead. "And before the holidays are over, I would appreciate if you deliver that letter to Sirius as well so that he and Harry can understand how important this is."

Severus glared at him darkly, and Albus knew that he was longing to throw out what he really thought of him. But he kept it in check and without another word. Severus turned with a sweep of his robes and slammed the door behind him a little harder than necessary.

"He won't thank you for this, Dumbledore," Everard called down to him. "You know that Potter doesn't like Snape anymore than Snape like him."

"There's nothing else for it," Albus said firmly. "Harry must be taught. And I think that it might be a good learning experience for both of them."

He shrugged. "It's your decision…"

Albus shook his head once again at those words as Fawkes let out a tiny chirp. "I know. And how I wish it wasn't…"

*Night before school restarts*

"They said that they rather have nightmares," Phineas said. "Once again, he proves my point. All students are ungrateful brats who think they know everything."

It was evening before the students were scheduled to come back to Hogwarts and Albus had Severus's word that he would try to teach Harry. Severus had just gone to Grimmauld Place and explained the whole thing to Sirius. Phineas, who had been keeping a close watch on Harry, had just come back from his last visit with a report.

Albus sighed before he said sternly, "I knew that he wasn't going to be any happier about this, but this is not up for debate."

"Finally, you seem to be putting your foot down," Phineas said approving. "This is a side of you that you should really let out more."

Albus gave him a sharp look. He wasn't enjoying this at all. With everything that was happening these days, he longed for simpler times. But he knew better than that. Phineas then went on to explain that 'lousy werewolf' and 'transforming freak of nature' would be the ones accompany them back to the castle with the Knight Bus.

"They have names, Phineas," he pointed out. Predictably, Phineas just snorted and settled back in his painting stubbornly. Why did it seem that the grown adults he was working with tend to be acting more like children than the students here?

*Couple Days later*

"He is an arrogant, show-off who has no idea how important…"

"Severus…"

"… going out of my way to try get something through that thick skull of his…"

"Severus… please…"

"…just as rotten as his father was and…"

"SEVERUS ENOUGH!" Albus finally had to yell to make himself heard. Severus paused, giving Albus a look that was both sulky and bitter.

Albus took a deep breath, leaned forward, and said, "I heard what you were saying, Severus. As I have heard you say countless times before. By now, I am quite aware of his many faults, as you pick out them."

It had only been the first lesson last night, and already Severus was complaining to him about Harry's performance. "However, I must confess that I am becoming very tired of hearing the same complaints over and over. I merely asked that you keep me informed on how Harry's Occlumency lessons were proceeding. Not an excuse for you to criticize him." He leaned back in his comfortable chair and regarded Snape.

Severus turned to face him, "He has a weak mind, Headmaster."

"Severus…" Albus said wearily. "It's only the first lesson…"

"He's _not even trying_!" Severus said. "I have explained to him how important these lessons are, but he shows little or no skill for the task. He's not interested, and he is not even trying to learn. I am wasting my time."

Albus sighed, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "What do you suggest? Forget it? You know how vital it is for him to learn how to protect his mind."

Severus frowned. "I know that," he snapped. "But does the _boy_ know that? The boy is too emotional. He is so much like his father."

"That's not helping, Severus…" Albus stated.

"But it is true!" Severus insisted, his face was flushed with anger. "I've been telling you that for years. He is his father all over again! He carries the worst traits of James Potter! Like father, like son…"

"Severus, that is enough!" Albus said loudly. Severus didn't back down, however he did stop talking. He folded his arms and glared at him, as if daring him to speak. Albus got up from his chair, feeling his old body ache, and continued in a calmer voice. "I have grown tired of hearing this, Severus. Has it occurred to you that your treatment of him might be the reason that he isn't performing as well as he should?"

"Maybe," said Severus unconcerned. "But please, by all means, find another instructor. I would be quite grateful if you did so."

Just those words had actually caused Albus to chuckle. "If memory serves me correctly, it took you some time to master Occlumency did it not? Harry only just started."

"Of course, Headmaster," Severus said. "But there is a difference. I _wanted_ to learn this. It couldn't be any clearer to me that Potter couldn't care less about these lessons."

Albus gave him a grim look.

"There is one thing that you need to know, however," Severus suddenly stated. "Apparently, the boy has been dreaming about the door that leads to the Department of Mysteries. It seems he has been dreaming about it for months, but he now knows that something is in there."

Albus very slowly looked up at him. "What does he know?"

"Not much," Severus answered. "He doesn't realize what it means, but it seems that he had been seeing into the Dark Lord's mind for much longer than we knew. He doesn't know what lies beyond that door, but he knows that the Dark Lord wants what's behind it."

Albus shook his head. "I was afraid of this. Please help him to learn this as soon as possible, Severus. It is critical that he learns to close his mind before something terrible happens."

*The next morning*

But things only continued to worsen. For that next morning, when he shook out the paper, staring back at him from the front page were ten faces that he knew all too well. He didn't even have to read what was in the article to know what has just happened… though that didn't stop his eyes from wandering to see just what the damage that Fudge had caused.

_MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN_

_MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT' FOR OLD DEATH EATERS_

He groaned at that. Fudge didn't honestly believe that people would believe that did he? Though, now that he thought of it, it seemed obvious that they would try to blame this on Sirius Black. Fudge didn't have too many other options.

"Albus?" gasped a familiar voice and he looked up to see Minerva was looking over his shoulder at the paper, looking terrified.

"I know," he said softly, "I was afraid of this. It was bad enough with dealing with Voldemort and only his _minor_ Death Eaters, but with his worst supporters back at his side…?" he looked at the picture of Bellatrix Lestrange and shook his head. Alastor was not going to be pleased about this…

"But Albus, what are we going to do?" she demanded. "You would think that this would be enough to convince Fudge. But instead, he's still denying everything. Everything that you warned him about last year is coming true and instead he just keeps pretending that this isn't a national crisis! And now he's blaming it all on Sirius?"

"What other options does he have Minerva?" he asked as his eyes trailed over the paper. "After all, it's not like he can just tell the press that he had been wrong about Voldemort being back. He has spent the last half a year telling everyone that I am crazy and… oh, no…" he gasped when he saw the small article.

"What now?" she demanded. "What is it?"

Instead of answering, he showed her the small article.

_TRAGIC DEMISE OF MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER_

_St. Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderick Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by a potted-plant. Healers called to the scene were unable to revive Mr. Bode, who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death._

_Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr. Bodes ward at the time of the incident, has been suspended on full pay and was unavailable for comment yesterday, but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in a statement:_

_"__St. Mungo's deeply regrets the death of Mr. Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior to this tragic accident._

_"__We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout, busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr. Bode's bedside table. As his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout encouraged Mr. Bode to look after the plant himself, unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but a cutting of Devil's Snare which, then touched by the convalescent Mr. Bode, throttled him instantly._

_"__St. Mungo's is as yet unable to account for the presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch or wizard with information to come forward."_

"Sturgis is dead too?" she whispered, horror-struck. "But there is no way that it was an accident."

"I agree," Albus whispered. "It was a murder… and a clever one at that."

Lucius Malfoy must have got him. It all made sense now… Lucius must've caught him and cast the Imperius Curse on the off-chance there'd be a guard there. And then he tried to get into the Department to steal the weapon for Voldemort but he got caught. And then, just as he was improving…

He groaned, and ran his hand through his beard… why did any of this have to happen?

*Weeks later*

Albus didn't need to send his portraits to know what everyone was talking about over the following weeks. Now that there was no point in denying the fact that ten of Azkaban's worst criminals had escaped and were out in the open again, it had caused panic and confusion everywhere. The students were all coming up with one theory after another to what was happening to the wizarding world.

The one good thing that this did was that people were starting to pay more attention to the real story. That Voldemort was back after all…

No one was satisfied with the Ministry's explanation to how the Death Eaters escaped, and were now started to question everything. However, with Umbridge lurking, there wasn't much that could be said or done. As a matter of fact, not even his staff was able to talk about it. Most of his teachers were forced to talk about this in corridors or at the dinner table when they didn't think anyone else was watching.

It was only made even more obvious when Umbridge had this newest decree put into effect:

_BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS_

_Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-six._

_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor_

"Does she realize how that could misinterpreted?" Minerva asked him when they first heard about it, "that would mean that she wouldn't be able to scold them in class for not paying attention."

"Yes," Albus nodded. "I don't think that she'll take kindly to that."

Ever since the breakout, Umbridge had been even more hostile than ever. And from what he heard, she was determined to fire one of his teachers to prove that she was in control… and she had two in mind. Professor Trelawney or Hagrid.

Albus already had Professor Grubbly-Plank on standby should something happen to Hagrid, but to have Sybill leave the grounds would, not only cause Umbridge to bring in another teacher of her own choosing, but it would also put Sybill in harm's way. He wasn't completely sure if Voldemort knew that it was _her_ who made the prophecy all those years ago, but if he did, he knew that she would never survive the year.

From what he had been overhearing, the toad had been inspecting both Divination and Care of Magical Creatures all the time. She would lurk behind Sybill and asking ridiculous questions, and forcing her to demonstrate her abilities. From what he had seen of her recently, he strongly suspected that Sybill was starting to drink.

And as for Hagrid, he was also under a great deal of stress from Umbridge. He had been keeping a close watch on his classes as well, and though that he hadn't been teaching anything remotely dangerous, he seemed to be too nervous whenever she was around, marking down everything that he did.

And that was only the tip of the iceberg of problems happening inside the castle.

From what the portraits reported to him, as well as with Severus, Harry just didn't seem to be mastering Occlumency. If anything, his scar was hurting almost constantly. Albus knew that forcing someone's mind to open would only serve to make him all the more venerable, but it was necessary to do so for him to learn through this.

"He really doesn't look good," Dilys said after a couple weeks of Occlumency lessons. Dilys had watched Harry leave the dungeons lately, weak and often shaking.

"Stop babying him!" Phineas called annoyed. "I say that it's good for him to learn the hard way!"

"Enough both of you," Albus called. "It's bad enough that the whole wizarding world is going to hell in a teapot, but please don't make it worse by shouting at each other."

Things were turning from bad to worse… and he just couldn't see how things were going to get better.

At least until one day…

He had been taken a subscription to the Quibbler for several years now. He had always found Xenophilius's articles fascination as well as entertaining. And these days, they only helped to cheer him up if nothing else… But on this morning, he had to read the title of this particular article several times for him to comprehend what it was saying.

_**HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST: THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN**_

He let his fork fall to the plate with a loud clatter as he stared at the words; before he then turned to the Gryffindor table just in time to see a flock of owls land right where Harry was sitting. He watched as he and his friends tore open the pile of letters they had delivered and talk excitedly among themselves. Albus quickly looked back at the article, completely lost in thought. When on earth did this happen? When and how did Harry give an interview?

He looked down at the writer, and he felt his jaw drop. Rita Skeeter? When did she start writing about the truth? And in the Quibbler for that matter? He glanced up at the Gryffindors again, as if he thought that they would be able to give him an answer. But at that moment, Umbridge started walking towards Harry with a disapproving look on her face. He quickly turned away as Flitwick started asking him what he was staring at. Rather than answer him, he held it out for them both to see and they read:

_**As soon as Cedric Diggory and I touched the Triwizard Cup during the Third Task, we were taken away, far away from Hogwarts. The cup had been a portkey… by the time that we finally landed on solid ground, we weren't anywhere near the school.**_

_**We had left Hogwarts grounds completely; we had obviously traveled miles - perhaps hundreds of miles - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were no longer there. Instead of the maze that we were in, we were standing in a dark and overgrown graveyard. **_

_**Waiting there for us… or rather for me… was Lord Voldemort.**_

_**Of course, Cedric and I had no idea who it was at first. All we could see was a hooded figure carrying a bundle of robes that at first, I thought was infant. Little did I know that it was just the beginning of the nightmare.**_

_**I couldn't make out the servant's face, but when he came nearer, my scar burned with pain. Ever since the night that Voldemort gave me this scar, for some reason—it hurts whenever he is near me. So I knew that it could only mean one thing… he was here.**_

_**I fell to my knees, trying hard to block out the pain… but I was able to hear the words in a cold, terrifying voice that I'd heard several times before call out the words, 'Kill the spare.'**_

_**I heard a wand move through the air, the spell that was screeched into the night by the servant, before I saw a blast of green light through my closed eyelids. When I heard the sound of something fall to the ground next to me—I opened my eyes… horrified of what I was about to see.**_

_**There… lying dead next to me… was Cedric Diggory. **_

_**I couldn't do anything but stare at his gray eyes that were open and glassy and that looked slightly surprised in death… I couldn't move, couldn't think—that was when the servant, Wormtail, or rather his real name Peter Pettigrew, pulled me to my feet. Peter Pettigrew was the real Death Eater who framed Sirius Black, an innocent man, for the crimes that he had actually committed before he faked his own death and went into hiding for all these years.**_

_**Wormtail had put down the bundle of robes and dragged me to a large marble headstone with the name, Tom Riddle—Voldemort's father—engraved upon it.**_

_**Wormtail had conjured up ropes and tied me to the grave that I couldn't move or run. He then gagged me and left for a short time. I was tied so tightly, that I could only look at what was in front of me. Cedric's body was lying just twenty feet away from me, as well as the Triwizard Cup and my wand—but also the bundle of robes was at my feet, and it seemed to be moving. **_

_**I can't explain how I knew, but I just somehow knew that I didn't want to see what was inside it. I just knew that whatever was in there, couldn't be a good thing. And a few minutes later, a large snake that could've easily swallowed me whole, slithering through the overgrown grass and circling the headstone where I was tied… almost like it was impatient. **_

_**I was so focused on the snake that I didn't see Wormtail until he came into my line of sight and was dragging a large stone cauldron, large for a full-grown man to sit in and it seemed to be full of water.**_

_**Whatever was inside the robes on the ground was stirring as though it was trying to free itself. Wormtail on the other hand was trying to light the cauldron as the snake slithered away out of my sight.**_

_**But the liquid in the cauldron began to bubble so I didn't pay too much attention to the snake. It water sent out sparks like whatever was in it was actually fire instead of a liquid. As steam began to billow out, the thing in the robes shouted at his servant to hurry.**_

_**Once the water began to glimmer, Wormtail had told his master that it was ready. I didn't understand what he meant until it was too late to try and stop it. He was talking about the ritual to restore Voldemort to his body.**_

_**Wormtail had bent down and picked up what was in the bundle, and I had seen what it was at last, though I wish that I never did. It was the most horrible creature that I had ever seen in my life. Imagine seeing the form of a human child that was revolting, slimy, and burnt - but worse, a hundred times worse. Many times, I had tried to forget it—but it haunts my dreams. A hairless and raw, reddish black creature that was so weak that it couldn't move on its own. **_

_**But it's face was what scared me the most. Flat and snakelike—with cold, red eyes that held no mercy or compassion.**_

_**Yes, this was what Voldemort was reduced to for all these years.**_

_**Even Wormtail was repulsed by what his master had become. I could see the revulsion in his pale rat-like face as he carried Voldemort to the cauldron.**_

_**Wormtail dropped Voldemort into the cauldron and he sank to the bottom. I silently begged that the creature would drown as Wormtail raised his wand and shouted out the words, 'Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!'**_

_**That was when the ground at my feet had cracked and dust rose into the air before falling into the cauldron where Voldemort was waiting. The surface of the water hissed and it turned to a shade of the most poisonous-looking blue.**_

_**At this point, the whimpering Wormtail pulled out a dagger and sobbed out, 'Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master.'**_

_**He then held up his right hand, a hand with a missing finger and swung… knowing what he was about to do, and not being able to bear watching it, I just closed my eyes. But though I could shut my eyes, I couldn't block my ears when I heard Wormtail scream. **_

_**I heard him fall to the ground before there was a sickening splash and I knew that the hand that he chopped off was also dropped into the cauldron. That was when the potion had turned a blood red.**_

_**I could hear Wormtail crying in pain, but it wasn't until I felt his breath on my face did I know that he was right in front of me. He choked out the words, 'B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe.'**_

_**There wasn't anything that I could do to stop him. I was tied to the grave as he raised the dagger and pressed the point into my right arm. I could feel my blood seeping down as Wormtail pulled out a vial and caught a few drops of it.**_

_**Once he was done with me, he turned back to the cauldron, with my blood this time, and poured it in. The red potion had turned white and Wormtail fell to his knees and cried as he held the bleeding stump of an arm to him.**_

_**The potion in the meantime was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. But still nothing happened…**_

_**I hoped again and again that everything had gone wrong, but knowing my luck, it just got worse.**_

_**Finally, white steam appeared and covered everything like a thick fog so that I couldn't see anything that wasn't within a foot of me.**_

_**And then I saw him. **_

_**Through the mist, I could see with waves of terror, the outline of a tall and skeletally thin man, rising up from the cauldron. He stepped out, and stared at me like a wolf stalking his wounded prey… while he examined his new body. I was forced to stare into the face that had haunted my nightmares ever since I first arrived at Hogwarts.**_

_**A face whiter than a skull, that had scarlet eyes with slits like a cat's, and a nose that was so flat that it resembled a snake…**_

_**Lord Voldemort had risen again.**_

Albus didn't get a chance to finish reading the entire thing, for Umbridge was now storming up to the Head table with a furious look on her face. Feeling a bit of vindictive pleasure, he merely tucked the article away and finished his breakfast without another word, thousands of thoughts racing around inside his head.

He didn't stay for much longer. As soon as he finished his eggs he quickly left the hall and up to his office where he could think in peace.

With the Quibbler's article in his hand, he stared out his office window and watched as the students headed down for Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures… but truthfully, he wasn't really seeing them. He had just reread the article about Harry's interview several time and even after all this, he was still having a difficult time admitting, even to himself, that everything he suspected about Voldemort was not only possible, but most likely certain.

He had long since suspected this of Tom… but now he finally had to face the facts. Tom Riddle had created Horcruxes, meaning more than one, and hid them all to keep himself from dying. What he heard from Harry when he explained the diary to him three years ago merely confirmed it for him. There was no possible way that a mere memory could've done all that. Possess and drain the life energy out of a young girl, open the Chamber of Secrets, call the Basilisk, and attack all those students as nothing more than a memory? No, he was willing to bet everything that the diary became Tom's very first Horcrux.

Tom created the diary when he was still 16, and from when he committed his very first murder of Myrtle. The diary belonged to Tom, and was proof that he was Slytherin's heir… so he considered it of great importance. That was why it was chosen to become the vessel of his own precious soul.

But if that was the case… then Tom didn't seem to be too concerned about where that piece of his soul went to. He knew that Tom never would've trusted anyone enough to tell them exactly what the diary was, but to carelessly hand the book to Lucius just like that? If he truly intended to have diary passed on, some future Hogwarts student, he was being remarkably indifferent about that fragment of his soul concealed within it.

Which could only mean that it was only his _first_ Horcrux… it was intended to be used as a weapon as much as his protection. The careless way in which Voldemort regarded this Horcrux never seemed right to him. So either Tom was confident that no one would ever be able to destroy it… or he must have made more Horcruxes, so that the loss of his first would not bother him.

He didn't want to believe it, but nothing else make any sense; no matter how many times the considered other possibilities. It was then he remembered what Harry told him on the night that Voldemort returned to his body and gave his speech to the Death Eaters… _'I who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality.' _

Yes, he knew that Tom was referring to his Horcruxes. He never thought that it would be possible for someone to split their soul more than once. But after everything that he had seen Tom capable of doing over the years… he seemed to grow less human until finally he had been reduced to nothing but this shadow of the Tom Riddle that he once taught himself.

Which left two very important questions… just how many Horcruxes are there? And where?

And then there was Harry. He felt as though some kind of battle was going on inside him as he stared down at the paper again. Harry seemed to be as frustrated with the rest of the world as he was, and finally decided to take a more drastic way to get the word out. Albus's thoughts also drifted back to all year… how he had refused to get help when he sat there for hours and hours as he was forced to cut his own hand open… how Severus had informed him of the dreams that have been happening for months…

He thought back to the same young child that used to feel comfortable enough around him to tell him all his worries and fears. Albus bowed his head. He knew that this was to happen. It was clear to him that Harry no longer trusted him…

He was aware that Harry resented him; maybe even hate him after all he had done. He was selfish enough that he didn't want Harry to think so little of him like this, even though he knew that it wasn't undeserved.

And while he was proud that Harry was taking a stand and becoming the leader that he always knew he was… why did it still feel like such a heavy blow to himself? He felt chest tightened, and he felt as if a heavy and terrible knot had formed inside his stomach. Albus wanted to explain everything to Harry, tell him everything… as expected from someone who was as selfish as he was, he wanted to explain the reasons for all his actions.

"Dumbledore!" screamed out a livid voice from behind him, which brought him back out of his thoughts. Umbridge's voice was coming from behind his door and she seemed to be close to breaking it down. "Let me in! I demand to talk to you!"

Unconcerned, he merely strolled over to his desk, and placed the article in one of the drawers as he called, "The door is open, Dolores."

She almost kicked the door open in her rage and went marching up to his desk, a copy of the Quibbler clutched tightly in her hands. Albus raised his eyebrows and gave her a kind smile as he watched her towering temper. "Is there a problem?" he asked pleasantly, enjoying how angry she looked.

"Dumbledore," she hissed as she threw the editorial down onto his desk for him to see. "Have you seen this?"

"I might've heard about it, yes," he said politely. "But, really, Dolores, what is the problem? You look upset." He had to almost bite down on his tongue to keep a laugh from bursting out at that last part.

"How could you let that—that—brat do this?" she demanded furiously.

Albus looked as her, feigning polite puzzlement. "By whatever do you mean?"

"That boy," she hissed, looking more like an angry toad every moment with all the air that she was sucking in. "How could you let him spread these—these vicious lies all over the place?! I have tried again and again to teach him that, but he won't listen to me!"

"And why are you complaining about this to me, Dolores?" he asked smiling, as her faced turned even redder in her rage. "As I'm sure you must already be aware of, I believe Harry. Why would I care if he decides to do what the Ministry should have been doing all this time?"

She glared at him and he went on, "Also, if a reporter as for an interview, it's up to them to decide to do so or not. Harry doesn't need my permission for everything now does he?"

"You had this planned," she whispered, pointing an excusing finger at him. "You had him agree to this interview in the first place. Well, I'll have you know that I already am punishing Potter for this. He has just lost fifty points from Gryffindor, has another week's worth of detentions, and is now banned from any future Hogsmeade visits!" she called out those punishments as if they were life-long goals that she had been able to accomplish, and was now grinning evilly at the idea of them.

Albus didn't let any emotion cross his face, but hearing about the detentions made his blood boil furiously. He didn't rise though, he knew that's what she wanted. Instead, he took a deep, calming breath and said softly, "Though Cornelius may deny it, it is the truth. The truth belongs to everyone. No one has the right to try and keep it from the rest of the world."

She stopped smiling, and he could see that her own rage was quickly risking again. But she then forced out one of her annoying, girlish giggles and asked, "Now, Dumbledore. Why would you believe a little boy who is obviously telling lies? You truly believe that a dead man has come back? Why go around telling all these stories and cause unnecessary panic?"

"Better that then not knowing the truth at all," he said firmly. "For denying the truth won't make the problems go away. If we can accept the truth without fear, then we can end up stopping unnecessary suffering."

"That is an idealistic argument," she said, close to shouting.

"I wonder about that," he said calmly. "Isn't the idea of it being impossible simply suited to your purpose? Won't the truth be the bigger threat to the Ministry? Believing or not believing won't change anything. You may be too scared to except the truth, but it is what's happening. I would've thought the fact that ten Death Eaters having just escaped Azkaban be enough proof too you. But I can see that you're all too blind, and too fixed in your happy illusion that the world is perfect. I'm sorry, but that's not how life works."

For a long time, they just stood there and looked at each other. Though she didn't say anything, he could see that Dolores's hand was clenched tightly into a fist; longing to curse him. He just sat there, waiting for her to say something.

Finally, she seemed to be able to get control of herself and stood up straight, patting her hair as if a strong wind had come and messed it up. "I can see that there was no point in coming to tell you about this," she said, her face still red with anger, but her voice back to the same girlish tone that she always used. "I can see that I am merely going to have to work harder to get things on the proper path."

"In other words," Albus said slowly, "You will continue to try and force Hogwarts to bow to you. I'm sorry but that will never happen. No matter who's head of Hogwarts or the wizarding world, Hogwarts will never surrender."

She glared at him furiously. "I can see that you did a good job on Potter too," she finally snarled. "He even sounds just like you!"

Albus blinked in surprise before he chuckled and said, "I am flattered that you compare me to him, Dolores. However, Harry is his own person. Personally, I don't see it."

She straightened her pink cardigan just as she stomped out of the room, and slamming the door loudly behind her.

*That afternoon*

It was almost funny how Umbridge thought to that this would work.

_BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS_

_Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven._

_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor_

Albus fought a smile when he read that. She has guaranteed that everyone will have read it by lunchtime. After all the best way to get people to do something is to ban it.

And, of course, by the end of the day, the whole place seemed to be quoting the interview to each other. This was excellent… the students were being told the truth, and seemed to be waking up from the dream that their parents and the Ministry was trying to feed them.

For the rest of the day, Umbridge was stalking the school like a great toad looking for flies. Whenever she saw someone that looked even a little bit suspicious, she would demand that they turned out their pockets and their belongings.

However, he had heard that the students had been finding interesting ways to stay ahead of her. It's amazing how the students suddenly become geniuses in Charms when they have to break rules. The teachers were of course forbidden from mentioning the interview, but he could tell that each one of them silently supported in the rebellion against Umbridge.

Just that evening at dinner, he had actually seen Sybill and Minerva talking to each other as if they were old friends—obviously about the article, and next to him Filius was humming loudly—occasionally looking over at Umbridge with a satisfied smirk on his face. Hagrid seemed to have been enjoying himself tonight more than he had all year…

There was one good thing about Dolores Umbridge. She could make even enemies come together as friends and celebrate.

*Weeks later*

"Are you certain of this?" Albus asked one early afternoon. He had just returned from another conference from the Ministry when his portraits were all ready to report what had been happening in the last few hours.

"I overheard it with my own ears," Armando wheezed. "There's no doubt about it! She's planning on getting rid of Trelawney tonight. She's going to make sure to do it when she's sure to have an audience."

"A display of power," Albus answered, his eyes narrowed in dislike. He knew that he had to do something. Otherwise, not only could they have another person like Umbridge here, but Sybill would be in terrible danger. But where was he to find another Divinization teacher before tonight? He racked his brains—the only people he could think of who knew this subject were…

His eyes snapped open as he came up with a solution. "I think I have an idea… the problem is whether or not any of them will agree to them."

"What do you…?" several portraits called out, but he didn't have time to stay and explain. He just pulled on his cloak for some warmth as he turned and headed straight down to the Hogwarts grounds.

He was already coming up with any back-up plans should this one fail, but each one seemed as unlikely as the next. No, this was the only chance he had…

"Professor Dumbledore, sir!" called a cheerful voice. Albus stopped in mid-stride to see Hagrid coming out of his house, Fang at his heels.

"Good afternoon, Hagrid," he said pleasantly as Fang bounded towards him, "I'm sorry, but I don't have time to stop in for tea at the moment. There is some urgent business that I must attend to. But while I'm here, could you tell me how the centaurs are fairing these days?"

Hagrid looked surprised at the question, at least that's what Albus thought it looked like; it was hard to tell with his blackened eyes.

"They aren' very happy these days, sir," he explained simply. "Mostl' roamin' the forest in a righ' state. If the Ministry restricts their territory any more we'll be havin' a revolt on our hands. That's if you ask me…"

Albus wasn't surprised to hear that as Fang whimpered at his feet, wanting someone to pet him. He moved his hand over the boarhound's head absentmindedly as he said, "I can't say that's news to me. The Ministry seems to be making things harder on everyone these days. But tell me, you are still on good terms with them, correct? Do you think that any of them will be up for a quick meeting with me on something?"

"Well, yeah," Hagrid said puzzled. "But wha' about, sir?"

Albus quickly explained that Umbridge was planning on sacking Sybill this evening and he looked furious.

"Now, she's never been my favorite teacher here," he said angrily, "But ter do that in fron' of the whole school?"

"That's the point, Hagrid," Albus said. "We must work fast if we want to help Sybill. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do to save her job. But we can ensure that she will still be able to live at Hogwarts and stop the Ministry interfering anymore than they already have. But to do that, I need to see the centaurs."

"You wan' ter ask one of 'em ter teach?" he asked startled. "But won't they…?"

"I know that most of them won't take kindly to the offer," Albus said. "But that is all it will be. An offer… not a demand. I simply wish to talk and ask them… if none of them want to accept, then we have a problem here."

He stopped for a moment, glancing up at the sun crossing the sky. "I have one particular centaur in mind… I can only hope that he will take the offer."

He nodded to Hagrid and strolled passed him into the forest, having some ideas to where he could find him. He had been looking for several hours, and had run into a few unicorns, Bowtruckles, and even Fluffy, who was napping in a dark part of the forest.

But soon, he came across the herd of centaurs and the very one whom he wished to speak with.

"Firenze," he said with a respectful nod of his head when he spotted him. Firenze bowed his head back just as politely—and did not look surprised to see him there.

"If I could have a quick word with you?" he asked. "I assure you that it is a matter of great importance. I merely wish for you to hear me out?"

Firenze didn't respond at first, as if he was wondering what he should do. But finally, he nodded and walked with him a distance away from the rest of the centaurs, who were looking at the pair of them with a mixture of frustration and annoyance.

This was one of the reasons he had come to admire about Firenze.

Firenze was a courageous centaur who was not as traditional or proud as most of his kind. Whereas most centaurs believed it was shameful to work alongside humans. He was the only person he could feel that he could ask about this.

Once they were a safe enough distance away so that the rest of the colony couldn't hear them, Firenze stopped and asked, "What is it that you want from me?"

"Firenze," Albus said, "First, I want to thank you for agreeing to speak with me."

Firenze nodded as he turned his gaze directly skyward, though he knew that the stars weren't out yet. "The world is changing," he said in his melancholy voice, "And not for the better."

"I couldn't agree more," Albus sighed. "I have been doing my best to prevent it from getting worse, unfortunately, there are those who are too stubborn to believe what is real."

"It is those with power who are afraid of change the most after all," Firenze sighed as he looked down at him. "But come… what is it that you want from me?"

Albus gave him a serious look. "I know that it is a lot to ask of you. But I have an offer that I would like to give you… an offer that you are free to accept or to decline. I will not be offended should you think that it is not worth it."

"What kind of offer?" Firenze inquired, his hooves pawing at the ground.

"Tonight, a ministry official will force one of my staff to leave their job tonight," he explained. "And I know that there is no one who knows how to read the stars and the planets better than the centaurs."

Firenze raised his eyebrows and looked at him with a very strange look in his eyes. "You are asking me to teach at your school?"

"A request that you could please consider grant the students of Hogwarts a chance to learn more about centaurs," Albus clarified. "I will of course understand if you don't wish to take the post."

Firenze flicked his long tail, his brow was furrowed, as he thought about what he was saying.

"I know that the others would never approve of this," he spoke at long last. "There are some who would even be furious at such the idea."

"I am aware of that fact," Albus nodded. "And like I said, this is merely a request. But I know that with the way the world is progressing now, the times ahead of us will become darker. But like I said before my friend," Albus finished as he looked directly at Firenze. "The choice is yours."

*That evening*

"Oh, really, Professor McGonagall?" called a deadly-sounding voice from beyond the front doors. "And your authority for that statement is…?"

"That would be mine," Albus called out and barged into the hall. This was his school and he was going to show her that he was the one in charge here. The students were all staring at him and quickly moved back as he strolled up the hall towards them. Sybill was sitting on one of two trunks, shaking and sobbing into a handkerchief as Minerva sat there with her, whispering comforting words to her.

"Yours, Professor Dumbledore?" Umbridge demanded, showing her pointed teeth as she gave a unpleasant laugh. "I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here -" she pulled a parchment scroll from within her robes "-an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister for Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation and sack any teacher she - that is to say, I - feel is not performing to the standards required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her."

Albus forced a smile, knowing that he still had one up on Umbrigde. He turned to Sybill, who was still sobbing. Though he was facing her, he was addressing Umbrigde, "You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid," he went on, with a mock bow to her, "that the power to do that still resides with the Headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."

At this, Sybill gave a wild little laugh in which a hiccough was barely hidden and told him that she would leave.

"No," he said sharply. "It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll." He then turned to Minerva and asked if she would take Sibyll back upstairs to her room, which she did so without a second thought.

Pomona came hurrying forwards out of the crowd and helped to support her up the stairs while Filius came right up behind them with her trunks. Albus turned a rather triumphant smile to Umbridge who was looking shell-shocked.

"And what," she said, in a whisper that carried all around Hall, "are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?"

"Oh, that won't be a problem," he answered pleasantly, though he knew that the castle was big enough to support them all. "You see, I have already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor."

"You've found -?" said Umbridge shrilly, swelling back up like a toad. "You've found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Number Twenty-two -"

But he interrupted her by reminding her that decree was only in effect if he had been unable to find another. "And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?"

Firenze trotted into the Great Hall to stand right beside him, alarming several students standing near the open doors. His tail flicked nervously as he looked around at all the students.

"This is Firenze," he said happily to a thunderstruck Umbridge. "I think you'll find him suitable."

*That night*

"Really, Dumbledore?" said Severus. After all the excitement was over, and Albus had charmed one of the rooms on the first floor for Firenze's liking, he had returned to his office. He hadn't at all been surprised to see Severus there waiting for him.

"What is the problem, Severus?" Albus asked calmly. "I was aware that Umbridge was going to get rid of Sybill tonight, and we needed a new Divination teacher."

"What you did just now…" Severus informed him softly, leaning against a wall and watched him with his arms crossed. "She won't like it. We now have another half-human teaching. It I didn't know better, I would swear that you did this on purpose."

"How spiteful of you, Severus," he answered with a nod of the head, "I was just searching someone with an… inner eye. And who better than a centaur?"

But it was then that he noticed that Severus was looking slightly paler than usual and knew that there was something wrong. Frowning slightly, he asked, "Is there something troubling you?"

"Yes," Severus said, pushing himself off the wall and walking towards him. "There is something that I think you need to know. Just before the show earlier, I saw something in Potter's mind. Something that I find disturbing."

"What is it?" Albus asked, dreading the answer. "He's still seeing into Voldemort's mind isn't he?"

Severus gave a curt nod of the head. "Do you remember when I told you about Rookwood and how the Dark Lord punished Avery?"

"Yes," he said frowning.

"It seems that Potter dreamt of that event," he said darkly. "He's dangerously treading too far into the Dark Lord's mind. It seems that the more the Dark Lord's emotions increase, the easier it is for him to see. Of course the boy doesn't know what it means."

Albus sighed and sat down, a hand coming up to rub his exhausted eyes. "I was afraid of this. How is Harry coming along in Occlumency?"

"They are not going well at all. I've told you before he refuses to do what I tell him," Severus said silkily. "He just doesn't take it seriously. I told you he doesn't have the right temperament nor the skill to master such a complicated branch of magic. I am wasting my time."

"Severus," Albus said wearily, "I don't know how many times we must discuss this, but our opinions couldn't be more different."

"Why not tell the boy that he could end up being possessed by the Dark Lord?" Severus asked with a rather evil smirk. "I'm sure that would get him to listen."

"Patience, Severus," Albus reminded him. "I believe that Harry can learn how to close his mind. He has no idea what is going on and we can't divulge any information that could put him in harm's way."

Severus continued to look sour and then asked, "I know that I'm wasting my breath, but why can't you teach Potter, Headmaster? I know he would much rather you do it."

"You know very well why I can't," he said firmly.

"But what if the Dark Lord is seeing into Potter's mind and sees that I'm teaching him Occlumency?" Severus shot back. "What do you think would happen? He will ask me why am I helping you protect him?"

"Certainly a clever man such as yourself can think of multiple excuses to that," Albus said calmly. "You can just tell him that you are only teaching Harry the basics. Or, as you believe, tell him that Harry just doesn't have the talent for it."

Severus was now looking like a child who had been told that he had to go to bed early. "I just can't stand this," he hissed. "Occlumency isn't helping. If anything, I think it's just getting worse. Before he only dreamed of the door to the Department of Mysteries, but now he's getting flashes of the Hall of Prophecy. I don't have the patience to baby him."

Albus sighed once again, wishing that he could come up with an answer that could satisfy them all. But nothing came… he simply told him that he would just have to bear with it as best he could.

*Weeks Later*

Things had quieted down, and Firenze was making himself right at him. He had heard that the rest of the herd had reacted badly when they found out about Firenze taking the job, and felt terrible that he had even asked.

But Firenze didn't seem to mind—and he was truly grateful for Hagrid stepping in when he did. A couple weeks had already passed since then, and he was enjoying a quiet evening in his room when he received news about an unwanted guest just arriving.

"How many have come with him?" he asked bitterly.

"Including the idiot?" Dexter asked bored. "Three. Of course he would feel self-important enough for him to have body guards. Dawlish and that Kingsley bloke are with him. Along with one of the Weasleys boys…"

"Percy," Albus nodded. "Well, nothing can be done to avoid it. Let's get it over with."

Cornelius Fudge had come for a surprise inspection of the castle—as if he thought that all of Hogwarts belonged to him. When Minerva knocked and led them into the room, Albus was polite as always, though he felt as if he was chewing broken glass just looking at him.

"What brings you all the way here to our happy circus?" he asked them coolly. "After all, that is all Hogwarts is now after Umbridge has walked in our lives."

Fudge ignored him as he walked through the room, his eyes flying everywhere as if he thought that there was someone ready to jump out and curse him.

"Now, Dumbledore," he said pompously. "We, the Ministry, feel that you are losing your touch, and we have decided to take action. After all, the future of the wizarding world is here to learn. We must step in when we feel that things aren't going as smoothly as they should."

Albus could tell that Lucius still had Fudge in his pocket… he was now starting to sound just like him.

"And furthermore," Fudge finished, "I want to see with my own eyes just what is happening here."

"You mean Professor Umbridge hasn't been keeping you informed of everything that is happening here?" he asked, faking surprise and feeling the need to wash his mouth out from calling Umbridge a professor.

"What she's been telling us isn't good," he said briskly. "I hear that you and your staff are making things difficult for her?"

"I don't know what you mean," he answered, fighting a smile. He leaned back calmly in his seat as he felt Minerva walking over to stand beside him—she was very tense—as if she was expecting a fight. Kingsley and Dawlish, were positioned on either side of the door like guards, while Percy Weasley hovered excitedly beside the wall, a quill and a heavy scroll of parchment in his hands, apparently poised to take notes.

As for Fudge, he was rocking backwards and forwards on his toes beside the fire, looking very smug about something.

"You seem to be in an unusually good mood tonight, Cornelius," he commented uneasily.

"Ah," he said smiling, "Dolores contacted me just an hour ago, and when I heard, I knew I had to come here in person. Apparently there are a handful of students who don't appreciate the Ministry approved way of teaching. So I feel that I must make a more… ah… personal hand in this."

Albus's eyes narrowed. At that precise moment, the office door banged open and Umbridge strode straight inside, holding tightly to Harry. Making sure not to look at the boy, he glanced up at the portraits instead, who weren't even bothering to fake sleeping this time.

He watched as they all watched what was happening with great interest—and when Harry was dragged inside, they were all taking sudden new interest as they all began to whisper excitedly to each other.

"Well," he heard Fudge say, with the air of a child who was promised a rare treat. "Well, well, well…"

He didn't hear Harry say something, but he didn't need to for Umbridge started to speak, and very eagerly she did as well. "He was heading back to Gryffindor Tower. The Malfoy boy cornered him."

"Did he, did he?" said Fudge enthusiastically. "I must remember to tell Lucius. Well, Potter… I expect you know why you are here?"

But Albus had already guessed what this was about. Someone must have tipped Umbridge off about their Defense meetings and had informed the toad about it. And if something wasn't done, he was going to expel Harry right here and now. He knew that Harry had to lie no matter what. He turned and stared determinedly at a point just over Harry's right shoulder, but he knew that he would catch his attention. When he did, he shook his head a fraction of an inch to each side, knowing that no one else would notice.

"Ye—no," Harry said.

Silence entered the room.

"I beg your pardon?" said Fudge jerkily, as if he had a large headache. Apparently, he had expected Harry to just confess.

"No," Harry repeated firmly.

"You don't know why you are here?" Fudge demanded, and he could hear the anger slowly coming through.

"No, I don't," said Harry at once.

Fudge looked incredulously from Harry to Umbridge and back again. Albus kept his gaze to the floor, but he could feel that Harry was looking at him, he gave the carpet the tiniest of nods and the shadow of a wink.

"So you have no idea," said Fudge full of sarcasm, "why Professor Umbridge has brought you to this office? You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?"

"School rules?" said Harry at once, "No."

"Or Ministry Decrees?" amended Fudge angrily.

"Not that I'm aware of," said Harry blandly.

"So, it's news to you, is it," said Fudge and Albus could see that the Minister was now shaking with anger. He had to admit that it was funny to see someone like Fudge, who believed himself to be so great, angered so easily by a teenage boy, "that an illegal student organization has been discovered within this school?"

"Yes, it is," said Harry simply.

"I think, Minister," said Umbridge silkily from beside him, "We might make better progress if I fetch our informant."

"Yes, yes, do," said Fudge, nodding, and he glanced maliciously at Albus as Umbridge left the room. "There's nothing like a good witness, is there, Dumbledore?"

"Nothing at all, Cornelius," he said gravely, inclining his head. They all waited where they stood for a few minutes; he was sure that each of them were wondering who Umbridge was bringing.

Finally, she came back, gripping by the shoulder Marietta Edgecombe of Ravenclaw, who was hiding her face in her hands.

"Don't be scared, dear, don't be frightened," said Umbridge softly, patting her on the back, "it's quite all right, now. You have done the right thing. The Minister is very pleased with you. He'll be telling your mother what a good girl you've been."

Albus's felt anger in the pit of his stomach again. She was talking to the girl as if she were a pet…

"Marietta's mother, Minister," she added, looking up at Fudge, "is Madam Edgecombe from the Department of Magical Transportation, Floo Network office - she's been helping us police the Hogwarts fires, you know."

"Jolly good, jolly good!" said Fudge heartily. "Like mother, like daughter, eh? Well, come on, now, dear, look up, don't be shy, let's hear what you've got to - galloping gargoyles!"

As Marietta raised her head, Fudge leapt backwards in shock, nearly landing himself in the fire. Albus couldn't blame him… for before Marietta let out a cry and hid her face again, everyone in the room could see the series of close-set purple pustules that had spread across her nose and cheeks to form one word… SNEAK.

"Never mind the spots now, dear," said Umbridge impatiently, "just take your robes away from your mouth and tell the Minister -"

But Marietta gave another muffled wail and shook her head frantically, refusing to speak another word.

"Oh, very well, you silly girl, I'll tell him," she snapped and turned back to Fudge, obviously not caring about the girl at all. "Well, Minister, Miss Edgecombe here came to my office shortly after dinner this evening and told me she had something she wanted to tell me. She said that if I proceeded to a secret room on the seventh floor, sometimes known as the Room of Requirement, I would find out something to my advantage. I questioned her a little further and she admitted that there was to be some kind of meeting there. Unfortunately, at that point this hex," she waved impatiently at Marietta's concealed face, "came into operation and upon catching sight of her face in my mirror the girl became too distressed to tell me anymore."

"Well, now," said Fudge, having recovered from the shock and was now looking at her with new interest. "It is very brave of you, my dear, coming to tell Professor Umbridge. You did exactly the right thing. Now, will you tell me what happened at this meeting? What was its purpose? Who was there?"

But Marietta would not speak; she merely shook her head again, her eyes wide and fearful.

"Haven't we got a counter-jinx for this?" Fudge asked Umbridge impatiently, gesturing at Marietta's face. "So she can speak freely?"

"I have not yet managed to find one," Umbridge admitted grudgingly. "But it doesn't matter if she won't speak, I can take up the story from here."

"You will remember, Minister, that I sent you a report back in October that Potter had met a number of fellow students in the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade -"

"And what is your evidence for that?" cut in Minerva at once. It had been the first time she spoke since entering the room, and he looked over to see the righteous fury starting to build up in her red cheeks.

"I have testimony from Willy Widdershins, Minerva, who happened to be in the bar at the time. He was heavily bandaged, it is true, but his hearing was quite unimpaired," said Umbridge smugly. "He heard every word Potter said and hastened straight to the school to report to me -"

"Oh, so that's why he wasn't prosecuted for setting up all those regurgitating toilets!" said Minerva, raising her eyebrows. "What an interesting insight into our justice system!"

"Blatant corruption!" Dexter chose that moment to call out, "The Ministry did not cut deals with petty criminals in my day, no sir, they did not!"

"Thank you, Fortescue, that will do," said Albus softly.

"The purpose of Potter's meeting with these students," continued Umbridge arrogantly, "was to persuade them to join an illegal society, whose aim was to learn spells and curses the Ministry has decided are inappropriate for school-age -"

"I think you'll find you're wrong there, Dolores," Albus interrupted quietly and they all turned to look at him.

"Oho!" said Fudge, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet again. "Yes, do let's hear the latest cock-and-bull story designed to pull Potter out of trouble! Go on, then, Dumbledore, go on - Willy Widdershins was lying, was he? Or was it Potters identical twin in the Hog's Head that day? Or is there the usual simple explanation involving a reversal of time, a dead man coming back to life and a couple of invisible Dementors?"

Percy Weasley let out a hearty laugh. "Oh, very good, Minister, very good!"

But Albus merely smiled and pointed out the honest truth—that the group wasn't illegal. The Ministry Decree banned student societies two days later so they weren't breaking any rules. It was almost worth having all these problems here just to see the stunned looks on everyone's faces at as they realized he was right.

"That's all very fine, Headmaster," Umbridge said, recovering from shock and smiling sweetly, "but we are now nearly six months on from the introduction of Educational Decree Number Twenty-four. If the first meeting was not illegal, all those that have happened since most certainly are."

"Well," he said, surveying her with polite interest over the top of his interlocked fingers, "they certainly would be, if they had continued after the Decree came into effect. Do you have any evidence that any such meetings continued?"

As he spoke, his eyes looked over to Kingsley as he silently tried to tell him what he wanted him to do. Thankfully, he watched as Kingsley blinked in understanding and the tip of his wand poked out of his pocket. With everyone's attention focused on himself, they didn't notice Kingsley cast his spell or when Miss Edgecombe's eyes became dreamy and blank.

"Evidence?" repeated Umbridge, hardly able to keep herself calm from glee. "Have you not been listening, Dumbledore? Why do you think Miss Edgecombe is here?"

"Oh, can she tell us about six months' worth of meetings?" he asked them all, raising his eyebrows. "I was under the impression that she was merely reporting a meeting tonight."

"Miss Edgecombe," said Umbridge at once, "tell us how long these meetings have been going on, dear. You can simply nod or shake your head, I'm sure that won't make the spots worse. Have they been happening regularly over the last six months? Just nod or shake your head, dear, come on, now, that won't re-activate the jinx."

As he had predicted, Marietta shook her head at the question. Umbridge looked quickly at Fudge, then back at Marietta, startled.

"I don't think you understood the question, did you, dear?" she asked, her eyes now starting to grow angry, "I'm asking whether you've been going to these meetings for the past six months? You have, haven't you?"

Again, Marietta shook her head.

"What do you mean by shaking your head, dear?" said Umbridge in an impatient voice.

"I would have thought her meaning was quite clear," said Minerva harshly, coming to Marietta's defense. "There have been no secret meetings for the past six months. Is that correct, Miss Edgecombe?"

Marietta nodded atonce.

"But there was a meeting tonight!" said Umbridge furiously. "There was a meeting, Miss Edgecombe, you told me about it, in the Room of Requirement! And Potter was the leader, was he not, Potter organized it, Potter - why are you shaking your head, girl?" she yelled at those last few words.

"Well, usually when a person shakes their head," Minerva said coldly, "they mean 'no'. So unless Miss Edgecombe is using a form of sign-language as yet unknown to humans -"

Umbridge seized Marietta, pulled her round to face her and began shaking her very hard. For a brief second, a flashback from his past came back and Albus could see his little sister's face flash before his eyes. Fury rose up inside him and he was on his feet in a heartbeat; his wand raised and having cast a Stinging Jinx until Umbridge released her.

He was a very patient man. But one thing that he could not allow was to see any of his students harm like that. "I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores," he said, his voice was softly but his anger was threatening to overpower him again.

"You want to calm yourself, Madam Umbridge," said Kingsley in his calming voice, as Umbridge backed away from Marietta in fear. "You don't want to get yourself into trouble, now."

"No," said Umbridge breathlessly, glancing up at Kingsley, and remembering her place. "I mean, yes - you're right, Shacklebolt - I - I forgot myself."

Albus felt a great deal of sympathy for Kingsley. It must've been so hard for him having to pretend he was on their side.

"Dolores," said Fudge, "the meeting tonight - the one we know definitely happened -"

"Yes," said Umbridge, pulling herself together, "yes… well, Miss Edgecombe tipped me off and I proceeded at once to the seventh floor, accompanied by certain trustworthy students, so as to catch those in the meeting red-handed. It appears that they were forewarned of my arrival, however, because when we reached the seventh floor they were running in every direction. It does not matter, however. I have all their names here, Miss Parkinson ran into the Room of Requirement for me to see if they had left anything behind. We needed evidence and the room provided."

She then pulled out a long roll of parchment. "The moment I saw Potter's name on the list, I knew what we were dealing with," she said softly.

"Excellent," said Fudge, a smile spreading across his face as he looked over it himself, "excellent, Dolores. And… by thunder…"

He stared at the parchment in stunned amazement before he looked up at him. He then whispered quietly, "See what they've named themselves? Dumbledore's Army."

Startled, Albus reached out and took the paper from him. There it was, clear as day… a list of all the students who had signed up to take a stand against the Ministry… and had taken up a name that they knew would frighten them the most. For a moment, he didn't know what to say… but he knew what he had to do. He looked up, smiling around at them all as if he had planned this all along.

"Well, the game is up," he said simply. "Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius - or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?"

Minerva and Kingsley look at each other fearfully, having caught on what he was saying. But there wasn't anything that could be done about it. He knew that if Umbridge and Fudge had their way, then every person on this list would be expelled tonight. He had to put a stop to it and there was only one way. His first priority was to protect the students.

"Statement?" said Fudge slowly, not understanding what he was saying. "What - I don't -?"

"Dumbledore's Army, Cornelius," he said, still smiling as he waved the list of names before Fudge's face. "Not Potter's Army. _Dumbledore's_ Army."

"But - but -" Fudge stammered out like an old car that was having trouble starting. Only a second later did he grasp what he was trying to say and horrified step backwards, yelped, and jumped out of the fire again.

"You?" he whispered, stamping again on his smouldering cloak.

"That's right," he said pleasantly.

"You organized this?"

"I did," he said happily.

"You recruited these students for - for your army?"

"Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting," he said, nodding. It was really too easy to lie here. Fudge had been laboring under this exact delusion for months after all, so it wasn't hard to play along. "Merely to see whether they would be interested in joining me. I see now that it was a mistake to invite Miss Edgecombe, of course."

It was clear that Marietta didn't understand what was happening here, but it was a good thing that she chose that moment to nod. Fudge looked from her to back to him, his chest swelling.

"Then you have been plotting against me!" he yelled triumphantly, pointing a finger at him dramatically.

"That's right," he said, quite cheerfully, now enjoying this.

"NO!"

He looked over and saw that Harry had stepped forward. Kingsley flashed a look of warning at him just as Minerva widened her eyes threateningly at him, but he ignored them both as he gasped out, "No — Professor Dumbledore -!"

Albus felt a stab of pity. He knew Harry would be blaming himself for this. But it wasn't his fault in the slightest. No, he was still quite proud of him for taking a stand and teaching others to do the same. It was just that sometimes you have to allow other people to make a sacrifice. If the Ministry hadn't been so blind, none of this ever would've happened in the first place.

"Be quiet, Harry, or I am afraid you will have to leave my office," he said calmly.

"Yes, shut up, Potter!" barked Fudge, and he couldn't ever remember seeing the man look as happy as he did now. "Well, well, well - I came here tonight expecting to expel Potter and instead -"

"Instead you get to arrest me," he answered, still smiling. "It's like losing a Knut and finding a Galleon, isn't it?"

"Weasley!" cried Fudge, now positively quivering with delight, "Weasley, have you written it all down, everything he's said, his confession, have you got it?"

"Yes, sir, I think so, sir!" said Percy eagerly, whose nose was splattered with ink from the speed of his note-taking.

"The bit about how he's been trying to build up an army against the Ministry, how he's been working to destabilize me?"

Technically, he never admitted to that, merely that he was working against the ministry and recruiting students for a defense group. Though, given what the Ministry is doing, he supposed that would be the least of their concerns.

"Yes, sir, I've got it, yes!" said Percy, scanning his notes joyfully.

"Very well, then," said Fudge, now radiant with glee, "duplicate your notes, Weasley, and send a copy to the Daily Prophet at once. If we send a fast owl we should make the morning edition!"

As Percy dashed from the room, Albus couldn't help but hope that the young man would, one day, reunite with his family. He knew from personal experience that choosing a career over your family will always make you regret later on.

Fudge then turned back to him and started to tell him how he would be escorted to Azkaban and to await trial and… so on and so forth…

He had a feeling that this was how this meeting was going to end and he told them so.

"Snag?" said Fudge, now positively out of his mind in joy. "I see no snag, Dumbledore!"

If he honestly thought that he was just going to quietly go to Azkaban, then he had a few more screws loose than he first thought. "Well," he said apologetically to him, "I'm afraid I do."

"Oh, really?" he demanded, though the smile was slowly starting to fade from his face.

"Well - it's just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to - what is the phrase?" he stepped into the center of the room, "Come quietly? I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course - but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing."

He looked around them all in amusement; for each one had a different expression on their faces. He then noticed that Dawlish was starting to go for his wand and addressed him directly, "Don't be silly, Dawlish. I'm sure you are an excellent Auror - I seem to remember that you achieved 'Outstanding' in all your NEWT s — but if you attempt to — er — bring me in by force, I will have to hurt you."

"So," sneered Fudge at him. "You intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?"

"Merlin's beard, no," he chuckled, though he couldn't deny that a part of him was hoping that they would try something as foolish as attacking him. For that same part of him had wanted to curse Fudge for a long time now. "Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to."

"He will not be single-handed!" said Minerva loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes for her wand.

"Oh yes he will, Minerva!" he said to her sharply. It was the school and the students who needed her, and he wasn't going to take her down with him if he could help it. "Hogwarts needs you!"

"Enough of this rubbish!" said Fudge, pulling out his own wand. "Dawlish! Shacklebolt! Take him!"

They would regret that. He drew his own wand faster than any of them and caused a powerful streak of silver to echo around the room. The loud bang alone had been enough to make the room tremble and there were miniature explosions as his instruments were destroyed and the windows broke.

He heard several of the portraits yell as Fawkes screeched and rose into the air. There was dust so thick that he couldn't see anything at first; only able to hear the screams and the loud 'thuds' of bodies hitting the floor.

Silence fell almost at once. Albus turned around at once and sighed in relief to see Minerva had forced Harry and Marietta out of harm's way. For a moment, he was afraid he might've hit them too.

"Are you all right?" he asked, coming towards them.

"Yes!" Minerva gasped, getting up and dragging Harry and Marietta with her, both of them coughing up the dust as well. Speaking of which, the room was clearing and he was able to see the wreckage of the office. He hardly noticed the damage that he had done to his own office as Fawkes soared in wide circles above them, singing softly.

"Unfortunately, I had to hex Kingsley too, or it would have looked very suspicious," he explained to Minerva. "He was remarkably quick on the uptake, modifying Miss Edgecombe's memory like that while everyone was looking the other way - thank him, for me, won't you, Minerva?"

She nodded, but when she opened her mouth to ask him something, he already guess what she was about to say, "Now, they will all awake very soon and it will be best if they do not know that we had time to communicate - you must act as though no time has passed, as though they were merely knocked to the ground, they will not remember -"

"Where will you go, Dumbledore?" she whispered urgently. "Grimmauld Place?"

"Oh no," he answered with a grim smile, "I am not leaving to go into hiding. Fudge will soon wish he'd never dislodged me from Hogwarts, I promise you."

It had been the only way out of this mess. He had been able to take the trouble off Harry and his friends as well as using this chance to work for the Order fulltime. He could also focus all his resources and time on trying to stay ahead of Tom instead of having to file mostly useless paperwork. Every situation can be turned to an advantage if you think it through…

"Professor Dumbledore…" Harry began and Albus looked at him. He could still see the guilt written all over Harry's face. But he knew that he made the right choice. It was far more important that Harry is at Hogwarts than himself. He also happened to remember what Severus had said before, and used this chance to make him understand how important it was for him to learn how to close his mind.

"Listen to me, Harry," he said urgently. "You must study Occlumency as hard as you can, do you understand me? Do everything Professor Snape tells you and practice it particularly every night before sleeping so that you can close your mind to bad dreams - you will understand why soon enough, but you must promise me -"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dawlish was stirring. He had to leave now, he seized Harry's wrist—desperate for him to fully appreciate how serious this was.

"Remember - close your mind -"

But even as he touched his wrist and looked directly at him, he saw that Harry's green eyes shifted once again. For a brief second, he was looking at Tom's eyes…

He had to get out now…

"- you will understand," was all he could say and then let go as Fawkes flew over to him. He raised his hand and grasped the tail… leaving his office, and Hogwarts behind.

Now that was what he called leaving with a bang.

**(Hope you liked this chapter. But I'm having some trouble thinking of what scenes to tod next. Any ideas to what would you like to see next? And as for putting Fluffy in there? It said on Harry Potter Wiki, that Fluffy had been set lose in the forest… so why not?)**


	52. Kreacher's Confession

**Chapter 52: Kreacher's Confession**

Hard to believe that less than a day ago, he was sitting in his office, dealing with Umbridge, the Ministry, and everything else that seemed to be going wrong at Hogwarts… and now here he was…

And, apparently, he wasn't the only one who thought so.

"I can't believe that you came here!" snapped a familiar voice from behind him.

Albus was sitting in a small room, all the curtains drawn, and was looking over a piece of parchment as he took a sip of Firewhiskey.

"With the Ministry running around in circles trying to find you, why would you come here?" Aberforth demanded.

Albus looked up to smile at him and answered, "Because I know those big-shots at the Ministry," he answered simply. "I know how they think. And I know that they would think that I'm going far away… they would never dream that I'm still within a stone's throw of Hogwarts."

Aberforth raised his eyebrows and Albus also added, "I won't be staying here for long. I'll stop by here only once in awhile as to not cause you any trouble. I will be spending most of my time travelling. I'll stop in from time-to-time to hear how things are going inside the school… and to rest. Because where I'm going, I have a bad feeling that I will be doing precious little of that."

"And where are you going might I ask?" he asked him coldly.

"A private matter I'm afraid, Aberforth," he answered with a nod of his head. He then looked down at the parchment and sighed. It was yet another one of those stupid Educational Decrees… the worst one yet…

_BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

_Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Albus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-eight._

_Signed: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic_

He shook his head. He doubted that there can be anyone worse than that toad there… now all that was standing between her and his students were his staff—and even then, if they weren't careful, at the very least they'll be fired… possibly even arrested.

"Well," he said throwing the paper aside. "I can't say that I'm surprised that she decided to take over."

Aberforth walked over and picked up the paper so that he could see what it said. He then looked up and asked him, "So what's the school going to be like with Umbridge as head? From what I know of her, she was bad enough just as 'High Inquisitor'."

"That is what I'm worried about," Albus sighed. He stood up and paced the room. "I honestly don't know how much worse she could get, but I had no choice but to leave. I was afraid that they would catch Harry and the other students in their Defense Club… if I didn't take the blame for it, then they would have expelled the lot of them."

"You left to protect that boy?" Aberforth said watching him, his eyebrows raised. "That's oddly noble of you to take the fall for someone else now isn't it?"

The air in the room grew much thicker, and Albus knew that they were both thinking of the same thing… Ariana. Though his brother didn't even mention her name, he didn't have to for the effect to make a point…

"The Ministry had been trying to get rid of me for months," he answered a little stiffer than usual. "And right now, it's more important for Harry to remain at the castle where he's protected." He finally stopped pacing and glanced over at him and finished, "At least this way, I can be of some use to the Order without having to deal with all that paperwork as well."

He sat down in his chair again. "I'll wait a few more days when I am certain that I have a plan and then I'll leave for a time if that is alright by you."

"How long will you be gone?" Aberforth asked him darkly.

"Don't know," Albus answered truthfully. He honestly had no idea where he was going, or how long it will take, but he knew that this was a road that he had to walk. "Like I said, I'll drop in some times to check how things are going; but I'll be travelling most of the rest of my time. I truly appreciate this, Aberforth."

"Be quiet," he said grumpily, turning on his heel and leaving the room. "You can stay here… but it will be going on your tab."

"I know," Albus called after him. "But I mean it all the same, Aberforth… thank you."

Aberforth stopped in the doorway and gave him an annoyed look before he shut the door. Albus chuckled at his brother's behavior as he listened to his footsteps die away. When all was silent, he looked to the empty painting in the room. "Well?" he called, wondering who will arrive here for him.

For a few minutes, nothing happened, but then Everard came walking in. "That was one heck of an exit, Dumbledore."

Albus smiled. "There was no other option," he answered brightly. "But I wanted to leave an impression that they weren't going to catch me easily. But enough of that, tell me, what is happening now."

"Not much," he answered with a shrug. "Just that everyone is upset that toad is now in power. Strange though that everyone already knows that you escaped from Fudge, the toad, some Aurors, and that pompous, ungrateful Weasley. The whole school is talking about it."

Albus raised his eyebrows. "Really?" he asked, trying not to sound sarcastic. "I wonder how…?"

But he already knew the answer. He knew that all the paintings in the castle were gossips. But the portraits in his office were some of the biggest gossips of them all. He would be willing to bet that they had run through the castle telling anyone who would listen.

"Mystery to everyone," Everard said, and Albus could see him fighting a smile. "And you should hear some of the rumors that they're coming up with. One of them said that you turned Fudge's head into a pumpkin! And there are some Hufflepuffs who're swearing that you set his robes on fire and that you left as he put it out."

"Though neither of those are true," Albus said with a soft laugh, "They are wonderful ideas. I am tempted to do that next time… though I hope that there will not be a next time."

"Another thing that I think you should know," Everard stated, folding his arms. "Or maybe… several things. First, after you left, Umbridge tried to get back into your office after they searched the castle and grounds for you. She couldn't get inside."

Albus chuckled, "Well, I wasn't technically fired nor did I resign, I left before either could occur, therefore in the eyes of the school, I have merely left the premises for a time. So she has no right to go into my office without permission."

"Can't say that I'm torn up about it," he smirked. "No way would I want to listen to her talk all day. At least you have a sense of humor. But boy, you should have heard her tantrum. If she didn't look like an overgrown toad, I would have sworn that I was looking at a five year old who didn't get to go out for ice cream."

"I'm sure that she would have loved that," Albus sighed. "She must have worked herself up with the idea of ruling over the teachers in my office like some kind of dictator. Too bad that Hogwarts isn't nearly as easy to deal with as I am."

"Another thing," Everard said, now sounding cross with him as if he was a parent who caught his child misbehaving. "I think that you made a mistake making that Malfoy brat a Prefect."

"Oh?" he asked in surprise. "Do tell."

"Apparently he and a lot of other Slytherins are enjoying taking points from the other Houses," he said bitterly.

"That's impossible," Albus said, reaching for another glass of Firewhiskey. "Prefects can only dock points from their own Houses. Only teachers and the Head Boy and Girl can take points elsewhere."

"Well, Umbridge has set up what she calls the 'Inquisitorial Squad', and now it's complete chaos," he said, looking like he wished he could punch something.

"The what?" Albus repeated, already knowing that he wasn't going to enjoy hearing this.

"The Inquisitorial Squad," Everard said again with a scowl. "She's getting students on her side. Umbridge created it to round up people she doesn't like and take points from them. Everyone in her little squad are Slytherins see…? And they now have the power to take points from whoever they want and report to her. I suppose she picked them to do her dirty work."

"Yes, being head of Hogwarts isn't easy," Albus said darkly. "I imagine that she feels that she needs more help in ruling over them. I know that I won't like the answer here, but just how bad is it?"

"Malfoy, and everyone in that Squad, are taking points off the other Houses just because they don't like them or because they're Muggleborn," he said in outrage. "Brats the whole lot of them! I know that I normally don't say that about students, but they are all children of Death Eaters there, Dumbledore! Monsters all of them…"

Albus's eyes narrowed. "I can see that he is making me regret electing him a Prefect. I had hoped that some responsibility would change his attitude… not to abuse his position."

He shook his head. Draco was truly sounding so immature… like an angry child who wanted to make everyone suffer if he couldn't get what he wanted. This was not good…

"I also overheard that the Weasley twins are planning something," he went on. "Said that they don't care about being expelled anymore… something about already having everything they need and want to give a bit of mayhem for their new Headmistress. They're going to do it sometime today, whatever it is."

Albus smiled. "Well, I think I'll stick around here just a little longer. I almost feel sorry for Umbridge now after hearing that. I can't help but wonder what they have planned. Well, if there is nothing else you want to tell me, then you may leave. And thank you Everard."

He watched as Everard walked out of his painting and he took this moment of quiet to lie down on the bed. He then spent the next few hours looking over several maps of Britain… trying to decide where to start. But his mind couldn't help but wonder off to what the twins were up too. If he knew them as well as he thought that he did, then Dolores Umbridge was going to have an interesting first day on the job… and he knew that she wasn't going to receive any sympathy or help from the staff, especially considering her abhorrent treatment of the students.

It was nearing the late afternoon, when he was rolling up the charts, just making up his mind on where to go, when he heard it.

Loud bangs and explosions were echoing outside. He jumped up and ran to the window, parting the curtains just enough for him to peek out. There outside in the grounds, somebody (and he had a very shrewd idea who) had set off what seemed hundreds of enchanted fireworks.

There were some shocking-pink Catherine wheels, fire-breathing dragons, sparklers that spell out profanity, rockets with long tails of silver stars and firecrackers dancing among the grounds… he burst out laughing at the field of chaos.

"Dumbledore!" shouted a voice, and he looked back to see the empty portrait, and Dexter came running in. "Did you see…?"

"How can I not?" he laughed, sounding more cheerful than he had been for a long time as he turned to continue staring at the fireworks.

"Amazing!" he cried out like a small child who was seeing fireworks for the first time. "I can only imagine just the kind of madness that is going on _inside_ the castle. This is truly impressive. Those boys have some great talent."

"The teachers sure aren't bothering to help," Dexter cried out, slapping his knee as he laughed. "They prefer to let Umbridge suffer. She really isn't a good witch is she? She doesn't know what to do! I think she's only making it worse!"

He laughed again. "No, she never was particularly skilled in magic."

They calmed down enough for Dexter to say, "You know she really has it out for Potter though. Just before all this I mean!" he then jerked his thumb to the window, meaning the fireworks, and finished, "She had Filch drag him to her office."

His smile faded slightly. "What happened?"

"Well, can't possibly blame Potter for all this," he said. "After all, I watched the twins set them off just outside her office. And Potter was in there with her when they did so she can't blame him now can she?"

"What happened?" Albus asked again.

"I could hear her from inside the office," he informed him. "Couldn't see what was happening, but I did hear Filch kept going on and on saying that things were changing as he dragged Potter up there."

"I've noticed," Albus said, his eyes turning back to the castle, his eyes darkened. "But not for the better."

"She's given him new power," he said angrily. "Umbridge and Fudge are actually going to allow Filch to start whipping people, do you?"

"I'm sure Umbridge would find it amusing," he said gravely. "That seems to be her type of humor. There is a reason I have not allowed such punishments; as they are repulsive, cruel and do not fit the crimes to which they would be used."

He hoped that the students would be smart enough to avoid making her angry now.

"But what did Umbridge want with Harry?" he asked again.

"She was very insistent on Potter have a drink with her," he said.

Albus looked at the portrait out of the corner of his eyes and said, "I see. Please tell me that Harry didn't touch anything she gave him."

"Hard to say," he answered. "I wasn't able to see what was going on in there, but I do remember last night when some of the other portraits saying that they saw her going to Snape and demanded he give her some bottles of Veritaserum."

Albus sighed. "Again, I'm not surprised. She wants Harry to tell her where I am. Thankfully, she can question him all she wants, he doesn't know."

"I doubt that he would be dumb enough to drink anything from her anyway," Dexter said.

"If the fact she was offering him a drink wasn't enough, the insistence goes to show she's probably got the Veritaserum in them," he said.

"To be honest, I think that Mad-Eye might have gotten to him because I don't think he drank anything," Dexter told him. "I think that he might have learned something from that crazy bugger over the summer don't you?"

"Bless Alastor and his paranoia," Albus said lightly. "But like I said, even if he did, he could only answer her truthfully and doesn't have anything to tell her about me. Though I know that she won't be happy about that."

"She also asked about Sirius Black's whereabouts," he said. "Which is why I know that he didn't drink anything because I heard him say no."

"That is a great relief," he said gladly. "It would be troublesome if she were to find out Harry and Sirius's relationship. However, the fidelius charm would protect Sirius as Harry is physically unable to reveal the secret, as he is not the secret keeper. What else did she ask?"

"Nothing," Everard said, sniggering. "Cause after all that was when the first round of fireworks was let off."

Albus shook his head a smile playing on his mouth, but a very faint one. There really wasn't anything that he could do here anymore… time for his plan to start taking play. "I must leave," he said finally. "I know now what it is that I must do…"

"But the school…?" Everard began but Albus sighed and finally looked up at him.

"There isn't anything can do about it now," he said grimly. "But I do get reports from Minerva and Severus from time to time; as well as from the rest of the Order. I will have plenty to keep me busy and I trust my staff to take care of the students. I must do what I can while I am free to do so."

"What is it that is so important that you have to put everything happening at Hogwarts on hold?" Everard asked him desperately.

"Two reasons," he said, picking up his travelling cloak. "First of all, there isn't anything I can do at Hogwarts because the Ministry is after me. And second, I believe that Voldemort's greatest flaw will be his downfall." He flung the cloak around his shoulders and picked up his wand to cast a Disillusionment Charm over himself.

"He believes that he is superior to all others… but he may have underestimated me," he finished as he looked at him seriously and gave an order. "Please keep an eye on the castle for me. You and the others. I will return here for information on how my school is doing when I can. But know that I will be travelling for a private mission I gave myself."

Everard nodded in understanding. He hesitated for a moment and asked, "Does that mean that Phineas will be pulling his weight around for once?"

Albus laughed again as he checked maps one more time and caused them to vanish. "Yes, tell him to keep an eye on the Slytherins. And should he use that big mouth of his to broadcast what we're planning, I'll hang him in the North Tower."

He continued chuckling as he watched Everard leave, a smug look on his face.

Albus put his wand back inside his pocket as he put his mind back to what it was he had to do. He knew that he had to start looking for possible place where Tom could have hidden a horcrux.

***Weeks later***

Albus spent the next few weeks traveling the countryside, trying to think to how Tom would think. The first stop had been where he first met the young Tom Riddle. Without any other leads, he traveled into London and searched for the orphanage in which Voldemort had been raised. As he already knew, the house had been demolished many years ago and now there were a series of office buildings.

But he knew better than to look there for a horcrux anyway. The orphanage had been the place where Tom had been determined to escape; he would never have hidden a part of his soul there.

Albus turned away and continued looking. He knew Tom… he taught him himself after all and knew that he would have chosen grandeur or mystique in his hiding places; this dismal gray corner of London was as far removed as you could imagine from the wizarding world.

And so began his journey. Albus travelled across Britain, across England… but he was never able to get a clue. He had to hand it to Tom… he knew how to cover his tracks well. All he had were a few memories and clues from them. For the last couple of years, he had gathered memories from as many people who knew Tom as he could find.

Most of the memories he found weren't very informative… others were much more so…

Once in awhile he would return to the Hog's Head in the dead of night, but only until he got some sleep. After that, he would leave again.

Late one stormy afternoon, he returned to his brother's pub to find some interesting news. His portraits were working twice as hard to keep as many eyes as possible on everyone. But he had heard that the Weasley twins had left not too long ago… and before they did, they had done one last trick.

"I hear that things aren't going as smoothly for Umbridge as she thought it would be," Albus smiled.

"I think that she's really regretting taking the job now," Dilys laughed.

She had just gotten through with telling him how the twins had turned the fifth floor into a swamp and no one was bothering to help Umbridge get rid of it. He knew that Filius or Minerva could have vanished it all in a snap, but he supposed that that would be being helpful…

As for Filch, he was now forced the job of punting students across it to their classrooms.

"How many times do you think people 'forgot' something, just so that they could get Filch to punt them back and forth?" she asked with a rather evil grin.

"I suspect many times," he laughed. "And it's also a good excuse for being late to lessons. All they had to do was blame Argus for being a slow punter. So now he must pay for wanting to whip the students." But as he said that, he got nervous and asked, "Have there…?"

"Nope," she laughed. "He hasn't had a chance to use the whip because there's just too much going on!"

And she told him.

She told him how someone had managed to smuggle a Niffler into Umbridge's office and tore the place apart… ending with Umbridge scream of rage echoing around the castle when she saw the mess and how the creature tried to bite off her fingers for her rings. Though amusing, he hoped that she wouldn't blame Hagrid for this.

Now Dungbombs and Stink Pellets were dropped so frequently in the corridors that students were taking a habit of using Bubble-Head Charms on themselves before leaving lessons. The members of the Inquisitorial Squad were now suffering for odd things kept happening to them.

"I wonder who added those antlers to Miss Parkinson," he asked lightly as Dilys laughed. "Though it's nothing too serious I hope?"

"Madam Pomfrey has everything under control with them," she assured him. "Too bad that she can't do a thing about a new disease that's going around called Umbridge-itis."

"Never heard of it," he said evenly.

"Symptoms are…" Dilys said in a mock serious voice, "Fainting, vomit, developing dangerous fevers or heavy nosebleeds as soon as you enter her classroom. The only cure? Leaving Umbridge's class as soon as possible!"

He laughed again, having had so little to laugh about these days. "That sounds fascinating…"

She told him so much more—but it appears that Peeves has become the true bane of Umbridge's existence. Cackling madly, he soared through the school, upending tables, bursting out of blackboards, toppling statues and vases; twice he shut Mrs. Norris inside a suit of armor, smashed lanterns and snuffed out candles, juggled burning torches over the heads of screaming students, caused neatly stacked piles of parchment to topple into fires or out of windows; flooded the second floor when he pulled off all the taps in the bathrooms and—when he was bored—he would spend hours at a time floating along after Umbridge and blowing loud raspberries every time she spoke.

Apparently, just that morning, he dropped a bag of tarantulas in the middle of the Great Hall during breakfast and caused a stampede of panicked students.

"Sounds like a living nightmare," he said lightly. "I hope that Peeves doesn't hurt the students in his pranks. Now tell me, how is my staff? How are they taking all this?"

"You wouldn't know that anything bad was happening the way they act," she grinned. "It's like they becoming blind to anything that the students are doing to Umbridge. The other day I saw McGonagall walking right underneath a chandelier that Peeves was trying to unscrew and didn't say a word."

That caused them both to start another round of laughter, and Albus was able to sleep peacefully for the rest of the day. Once the sun had set and there were few people outside, he vanished into the night once again.

***A couple more weeks later***

He was beginning to feel as if he was in the middle of a wild goose chase. He hadn't had any luck trying to figure out where a Horcrux could be hidden. He had visited the locations that he knew were places where Voldemort had lived or visited. The orphanage where he had been born and raised; Borgin and Burks, where he had worked after completing school; then Albania, where he had spent his years of exile…

But so far, he hadn't had any luck at all and was beginning to wonder if there was any chance at all.

Still, he ignored those negative feelings as best as he could and soldiered on. It had become easier once the weather had turned warmer… and he had also cheered up greatly when he heard the news that Gryffindor had won the cup once again this year. Even without any new idea, he continued to move through the countryside, off to find another lonely and secluded spot, traveling by Apparition to more woods, to the shadowy crevices of cliffs, to purple moors, gorse-covered mountainsides. He spent most of his time in the Muggle World, as the Ministry would never look there for him.

He would stop at pubs to order food and board for the night before he would set out again into the wilderness the next morning. But during his travels, he couldn't help but wonder how Hogwarts was faring now. The end of the year was fast approaching and he couldn't help but wonder when the curse would strike and get Umbridge out of their hair once and for all.

Just thinking about that toad made his blood boil, but he did his best to put her out of his mind as well. He would hear from the other Order members from time to time, and he would send them his orders on what to do. So far, things were going very smoothly for them… he could only wish they were going the same for him.

***That night***

He had spent most of that day wandering the forests in Albania, only to come up empty. Finally, exhausted, and longing for a bit of sleep, he returned to the Hog's Head, very late, and looking forward to some sleep. But before he did, he checked in with his portraits on what has been happening since he last asked.

According to Dexter, nothing truly out of the usual… meaning that Umbridge was still miserable; which was the best news he heard all day. But he was also amused to hear that the usual black-market was back up now that exams were so near.

"You remember that Eddie Carmichael?" Dexter asked him.

"Yes," Albus said politely as he pulled off his damp cloak and draped it over the only chair in the room. "In Ravenclaw? I remember him well why?"

"He's trying to sell some 'Brain Elixir'," he laughed as he made air quotes in the air. "He says that it was what got him those nine 'Outstanding' OWLs."

Albus laughed. "Did he now? And tell me did anyone actually believe that?"

"Doesn't matter anymore; Miss Granger confiscated it all," he laughed. "Turns out that it was actually dried Doxy droppings. Tell me, are any of that stuff actually real?"

"Extremely rarely," he answered with a chuckle, "And it is illegal to take them right before an exam anyway."

"Speaking of which," he remarked. "For the fifth years, their first exam will be Transfiguration tomorrow. And Minerva is saying that Umbridge plans on punishing cheaters severely… and that their exams will reflect on Umbridge's new regime."

"Is that an incentive to cheat?" Albus asked.

"If those exams weren't so important, I would think so," Dexter agreed. "Though, because of their club, everyone on that list will probably pass their Defense Against the Dark Arts. Won't it look like Umbridge managed to teach us something?"

"Only a small number of the school," he answered. _'And it doesn't matter,'_ he added as an afterthought. _'She'll be gone soon.'_

"One more thing…" Dexter explained just before he walked out of the painting. "I kinda eavesdropped on Potter during his interview with McGonagall for his career?" He smirked, "He said that he wants to be an Auror."

Albus smiled. "Now, why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Umbridge didn't seem too happy at that idea," he laughed. "You know… if the Auror gig doesn't work out for him, you could always hire him as a teacher. He sure did a better job than Umbridge and he didn't even give them homework."

Albus smiled. "That isn't a bad idea. But we have to get rid of Umbridge first…"

***A couple days later***

Finally, after much more studying into the memories he had managed to collect, he believed that he was finally onto a place where a Horcrux just might be. He never gave it much thought… but it did make sense when he thought about it.

Little Hangleton…

It was home to Tom's ancestors…

Albus never did have much to go by when it came to Tom Riddle… except for Tom's middle name… _Marvolo_…

For the last few years, he had done his best to try to find more about Tom, and tracing Salazar Slytherin's line had been almost impossible; but thanks to that middle name, he had been able to track down a wizard named Marvolo Gaunt. This same man who had been imprisoned in Azkaban for a short time over fifty years ago, and sure enough, with some research, he had been able to discover that he was self-proclaimed 'Slytherin's descendant'.

And it was there that he discovered Marvolo had two children—his son Morfin and daughter Merope. There was no doubt in his mind that Marvolo's daughter Merope had been Tom's mother and Morfin his uncle. He discovered that Morfin had been in Azkaban for many years now and Albus had been allowed to visit him in that dreadful place some time ago to meet him.

The memory had been buried very deep and it took some skill but he managed to discover that Tom had come back here to meet Morfin himself. And it was thanks to Morfin did Tom discover that his Muggle father was still living here in this town.

Albus sighed as he stared up at the gloomy sky.

Morfin had been charged and also confessed to the murdering Tom Riddle and his parents… but that had been a lie. Morfin's memories had been modified and hid the truth. The true memory was when he met his young nephew… and that same nephew was the one who had killed his own father and grandparents. And he was still underage at the time… he never expected that an underage wizard would be capable of murder.

He felt a terrible sense of grief inside him at the thought of how anyone could be so cold-hearted that they would feel nothing after doing such a terrible thing. Murder and blamed the entire thing on Morfin.

The Muggle authorities were, of course, perplexed; for the Avada Kedavra curse doesn't normally leave a mark. But the Ministry, on the other hand, knew at once that this was a wizard's murder, and were also aware that a convicted Muggle-hater lived across the valley from the Riddle house, a Muggle-hater who had already been imprisoned once for attacking one of the murdered people.

When they came to him, they didn't need to question him, to use Veritaserum or Legilimency. He admitted to the murder on the spot, giving details only the murderer could know. He was proud, he said, to have killed the Muggles, had been awaiting his chance all these years. He handed over his wand, which was proved at once to have been used to kill the Riddles. And he permitted himself to be led off to Azkaban without a fight.

But the truth was that a false memory had been planted in his mind. That is a really complex bit of magic. Especially as Tom was so young…

Though he can't say for sure what happened here, he had a fairly accurate guess. Tom stunned his uncle before he stole his wand, and proceeded across the valley to the Muggle man who had abandoned his witch mother, and killed him along with his Muggle grandparents. Then he returned to the Gaunt hovel, performed the complex bit of magic that would implant a false memory in his uncle's mind, laid Morfin's wand beside its unconscious owner, and stole the ring…

His thoughts soon trailed over something else that bothered him greatly…

"_The ring… the ring! Father will kill me for losing his ring!"_

"_What ring is this?"_

"_The ring! Father's ring! Slytherin's ring! He'll kill me for losing it!"_

A ring… he stopped in the middle of the road, his mind racing. Those words were the only ones that Morfin had said during their interview… the only words that he ever said again apparently. Retrieving these memories hadn't been easy but they proved that Morfin didn't commit the crime that he had been imprisoned for. However, before he could clear his name, Morfin had died.

But he had watched those memories over and over again… and what he saw sent both fear and excitement through him.

The ring… a ring that had the Peverell coat of arms engraved on the stone?

He gave a sharp intake of breath before he shook his head—but there was no doubt in his mind to what that stone was.

He quickened his pace, now anxious to reach the house where the Gaunts once lived. He had to know… did his long search for the stone finally pay off? Did the Deathly Hallow that he had been longing to find for so many years truly exist here in this village?

But just as he was almost over the final hill, something stopped him. A large fireball appeared behind him in midair. Stopping dead in his tracks, he spun around to see Fawkes had appeared.

"Fawkes," he said at once as the phoenix dropped a single golden feather and a scribbled piece of parchment into his hands and landed gently on his shoulder. It was so lucky that they were so far away from the village that no one will be able to see or hear them, but he couldn't help but cast quick glances around him before he sighed in relief.

Fawkes rubbed his warm head against his withered cheek, cooing softly.

"Yes, my friend," he whispered, reaching up to stroke Fawkes's beautiful feathers. "I missed you too. But what is so urgent?"

He unrolled the scrap of paper and recognized the hand-writing that belonged to Severus.

_Something terrible as happened to Hagrid and Minerva last night. We need to talk._

Albus bit his lip and cast a look to the hill in front of him. He was longing to go over that hill and find that ring… but…

Fawkes sang a soft song to him and he nodded. "I understand," he said, more to himself than to Fawkes.

"I understand…" he said again. "I'll meet with him at once. I can come back later…"

But as he turned to go, he cast one last glance at the hill, knowing that his dearest wish could finally be within grasp—but Fawkes gave an impatient trill and it brought him back to his senses.

"I'm sorry," he told him, feeling comfort in Fawkes's light weight. "It's just… I'm so close now… but it can all wait until later."

Fawkes gave him a sad look and sang a few gentle notes that warmed his insides and he smiled. "I waited this long, yes I can wait a little longer. Let us go…"

This seemed to cheer Fawkes up for his stretched his wings out and sang as Dumbledore grabbed hold of his tail and then the two of them were gone in a ball of fire.

***The Edge of the forest***

He only had to wait a few minutes for Severus to come and meet him. He was hidden in the forest, just out of sight, but able to get a full view of the great building that had been his home for most of his life.

He smiled up at it sadly as he looked down in time to see Severus coming towards him.

"Severus?" he asked coming forward. "It is good to see you again."

"I don't have much time here, Headmaster," he replied coolly. "I let it slip that I was going to the forest for some Moly plants for my next class. But I doubt that it will work for long. Umbridge has her nose in everywhere."

"I see," Albus nodded. "Then we'll make it quick. What has happened here?"

"Hagrid left the school," he informed him and Albus stared.

"What?" he said, sure that he heard wrong for a moment.

"That toad Umbridge," he said, his lip curling. "She had been looking for a reason to sack Hagrid for some time. The other day, someone had snuck another Niffler into her office, so she took her chance to blame the Care of Magical Creatures teacher for it. She tried to sneak up on him last night… took six Auror's with her so that they could take him."

"Take him where?" he asked, his eyes narrow as he felt his anger beginning to rise.

"I don't know," he answered. "But Umbridge attempted to have Hagrid forcibly removed from the premises, and possibly arrested in the middle of the night so as not to cause a commotion with the students due to their earlier presence at Sybill's dismissal. Hagrid took on the officials while they attempted to subdue him."

"Attempting is probably the key word, as his heritage will probably help him in this situation," Albus said. "He's half-giant, and can't be stunned that easily. And after the Ministry imprisoned him in Azkaban a couple years ago, he's not eager to listen to them."

"That's probably why she took six fully trained Auror's with her," Severus muttered darkly. "Hagrid fought them off… but Minerva has now been moved to St. Mungo's."

"Why? What happened to her?" he asked in concern.

"You know how she is," he told him. "She won't idly stand by while her friends are being attacked. But they attacked her for getting in Umbridge's way. Professor McGonagall came to Hagrid's defense and was seriously injured after being hit by four simultaneous Stunning Spells without warning."

Albus's hands curled into fists, his nails digging into his skin as his anger was threatening to spill over. "Four Stunners?!" he said through gritted teeth. "Four Stunners?! That could easily kill someone! That is utterly disgraceful!"

"Madam Pomfrey couldn't do much for her," he explained grimly. "So we had no other choice but to move her to St. Mungo's early this morning. But I don't think we need to worry. I think it will take more than a few stunners to kill her. You should have seen Umbridge at breakfast however. You would think nothing happened. She was all too happy to get rid of her. That was when word got around to what happened. I think that Umbridge should watch herself from now on because now everyone in the school seems to want her dead."

"Yes," Albus muttered, his hatred for Umbridge rising to a new level. "I don't blame them. And I understand why she's so happy now that Minerva isn't there. Because she is known for being a close friend of mine as well as obviously being rather vocal against Umbridge, so they probably just used the opportunity to get her out of the way, without having to worry about bad press, if it is actually possible for them."

'_But Umbridge better hope that I never get my hands on her,'_ he added venomously. If he had it his way, he would make sure that she suffered a slow and very painful death.

"Apparently Hagrid didn't take that toowell," Severus went on. "See, he didn't leave her unavenaged. Knocked a couple Auror's out cold before he went running off. I think he'll be waiting for you to contact him for some orders."

"I'll find a place for him to hide out for awhile," Albus agreed. "I must say, we in the Order sure seem to know how to make memorable exits." Though it was meant to be a joke, the serious and angry expression on his face at the treatment of his staff and friends.

He looked at him seriously and said, "I understand and thank you for telling me all this, Severus. Please keep the students here safe. I'll see if I can find Hagrid."

His thoughts of retrieving the ring haven't left his mind even as he watched Severus head back up to the castle and he left to go contact Hagrid. But he waited all these years for a chance to make things right to his parents and sister… he prayed that they could understand if he waited a little longer.

***Later on that day***

Turns out that Hagrid had already been hiding out in the mountains by the time he tracked him down just an hour later. He was lurking near a small cave and taking care of Fang—who apparently was stunned the night before.

He heard the whole story from him, how he had been sitting down to dinner when he heard a knock on the door. When he opened it, Umbridge was there, flanked by Aurors… this only confirmed what Severus said.

"'Ow is Professor McGonagall?" Hagrid asked anxiously, rubbing his hands together.

Albus gave him a sad look and explained that she had been moved to St. Mungo's for now. Hagrid covered his face with his enormous hands and choked back sobs.

"It' all me ruddy fault!" he cried out. "She go' hur' tryin' to help me!"

He looked ready to go into a long rant on how it was his fault and Albus reached over to pat his arm. "I know it's hard," he said. "But it's no one's fault but Umbridge. She had been trying to get rid of Minerva almost as long as she tried to sack me. But Minerva isn't going to die anytime soon. We both know how strong she is… I'm sure that she'll be out in no time…"

They stayed there for a short time before Hagrid took a couple shaky breaths and managed to heave himself up onto his feet.

Albus had managed to find a cave up in the mountains for Hagrid to hide in. But all the while, his hatred for Umbridge and the Ministry continued to rise at all the harm they have done to his students, his staff… and especially his friends. Hagrid being forced out of his house like some kind of criminal, Sybill being humiliated in front of the school she loved so dearly, Harry being force to carve those disgusting words into his hand for hours at a time… and now Minerva lying in some hospital bed…

Ministry officials were cowards all of them…

But he didn't have long to dwell on it. For soon, he received yet another message from Severus thanks to Fawkes. This time the message told him that he must report to Grimmauld Place as quickly as he could.

He bid Hagrid a rushed farewell before he Apparated directly onto the doorstep of 12 Grimmauld Place, trusting that the ill-lit entryway would hide his sudden appearance from the Muggle neighbors; and he waited impatiently as the door yielded to his unlocking spell, and burst through it into the hallway pausing only to cast a quick, Silencing Charm on the portrait of Walburga Black as to not have to deal with her screaming at the moment.

"Dumbledore? Is that you?" he heard Severus's voice.

"Severus, what's wrong?" he asked, strolling forward to see Severus was there for him. "I got your message and…?"

"I don't have much time to explain it to you," Severus said hurriedly. "I only came here as a favor to your Golden Boy Potter. I told you that he never took the Occlumency lessons seriously, now this has happened."

"What has happened?" he asked quickly.

"Potter is under the impression that the Dark Lord had taken Black captive. Since Black left as soon as I told him, I can only assume that Potter was mistaken. Shame…"

"What are you talking about, Severus?" he asked, not understanding what this was about.

"Bit of a long story," Severus said, a somewhat satisfied sneer coming across his face. "You see, Potter's penchant for following in his father's footsteps has once again landed him in a spot of trouble. Last I saw him he was in Umbridge's office with his friends. She wanted me to administer Veritaserum to him by force. You see, she caught Potter using her fireplace and was determined to get some answers. I would have gladly complied but my supply was at the moment is non-existent since she thinks that she already took my last bottle some time ago."

"What do you mean she _thinks_?" he asked puzzled.

"She's an idiot," he said silkily. "She never could tell the difference when it came to potions. The Veritaserum I gave her was fake. Not that she needed to know… however, she didn't take too well to my explanation as to just why I could not produce more Truth Potions for her on the spot, so she told me to get out and suspended me from teaching as well."

"But what…?" Albus began but Severus replied curtly.

"Potter is missing. I fear he may have went running off to the Ministry with his friends in a misguided attempt to rescue Black."

"You said that before, but why would he think that Sirius is in trouble?" he pressed him.

"Apparently Potter had a vision that the Dark Lord was holding Black in the Department of Mysteries," he said jerkily. "Like the night he saw Arthur Weasley's attack? I saw the dream in the boy's mind. The Dark Lord was torturing Black into retrieving the prophecy for him… but when I checked here, Black was just fine. I told you again and again that the boy doesn't have what it takes to use such a complicated branch of magic. There truly was no further point in teaching him after all."

Albus stared at him. "You mean to tell me that you stopped giving him the lessons?" he demanded.

"There was no more point," Severus snapped at him. "He wouldn't listen to a word that I had to say to him. Do you know what he did? I left him alone in my office for five minutes and peeked into my private memories that I specifically put away into your Pensieve."

Albus felt the need to tear his hair out. "You were angry with him, so you compromised his safety?"

"If he wasn't going to take his own safety seriously, why should I care?" Severus demanded hotly. "I promised you that I would help protect the boy, but if he insists on doing whatever he wants then that's his problems not mine. I told you before that I wasn't the right one to teach him in the first place."

Albus just looked at him long and hard, knowing that Severus could argue for hours if he wasn't too and also knew that now wasn't the time.

"We will discuss this later," he said at last. "But tell me what you're talking about Harry running off to the Ministry?"

"He thinks that the Dark Lord is holding Black in the Department of Mysteries," he said darkly. "Though I knew right away that this was a trap."

"You mean you didn't tell him-?" he said, panicking gripping his heart.

"I could hardly tell Potter otherwise in the presence of Dolores Umbridge what was happening?" Severus replied with a sneer. "Potter should be at the Department of Mysteries by now, and there are likely Death Eaters there to meet him."

"And Sirius?" he asked.

"You just missed him," he said, folding his arms. "I tried to stop him, but he insisted on going. Said that he will order that decrypted house-elf to tell you everything. But like I said, I don't know if Potter's truly there or not. I remember seeing Potter and Granger leading Umbridge into the forest and apparently they didn't come back out. Alternatively, he could simply be lost in the Forbidden Forest, and I am guessing that you will make me go in there as well?"

Albus felt all the blood leave his face. "Yes," he said. "Please go now… I'll get the story from Kreacher and follow them."

Severus gave him a frustrated look before he walked right past him and strolled out of the house.

Albus, feeling numb, looked around for Kreacher, and it didn't take him long to find him. He was inside under the kitchen table talking to himself.

"Kreacher can't believe that Mistress's son would have ever let blood traitors, mudbloods and werewolves into the house," he murmured to himself. "But then, Mistress's son has always been a dirty little blood traitor too. Oh, my poor mistress! If she only knew, if she knew the scum they've let into her house, what would she say to old Keacher, oh the shame of it, mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what will he do?"

"Kreacher?" Albus asked hurriedly.

"But it's over now. Kreacher has made sure of that… Kreacher goes away, like Master Sirius says. Master Sirius didn't tell Kreacher where to go away to, though, so Kreacher will go to Mistress Cissy's house. Kreacher is a good elf, Kreacher listens to Master Sirius, Kreacher follows orders. Kreacher is a good elf. Master is fooled, Master did not get to visit with him."

"Kreacher," he said louder, in a more crisp voice. "I want you to tell me what you're talking about."

Kreacher looked over at him, and Albus was startled to see the insane smile on the old elf's face. Kreacher then turned his back to him again and muttered quicker to himself, "Oh, it's the old man talking to Kreacher… too late, too late… Master is no longer here…"

"I know that Sirius isn't here," Albus said hurriedly. "But I want you to tell me what happened here tonight. Sirius ordered you to tell me everything."

"The old man does not know Kreacher's secret," said Kreacher, not even trying to mutter now as he giggled. "He does not know what Master did not see in the fireplace. In the fire…"

"In the fire?" he repeated. "What are you talking about?"

"Master's boy has come looking for Master," Kreacher went on. "In the fire."

"Harry," Albus whispered, fear settling in again. "Kreacher tell me everything you know. It was Sirius's order that you do so."

Kreacher finally turned to look at him. "Master ordered Kreacher to leave the house," he said, the mad glint of happiness in his eyes. "So Kreacher left the house."

"You left the house?" Albus repeated at once. "Where too?"

"To Mistress Cissy and Mistress Bella," he answered as if it was obvious.

Sissy? Bella?

He suddenly went white. "Not Narcissa and Bellatrix?" he asked softly.

"So he knows them," Kreacher whispers to himself. "Of course he would… they are of proper blood. Of course he would know…"

"Kreacher," he said hurriedly. "What happened here? What did you tell them? I thought Sirius forbid you to tell them anything."

"Kreacher only answered Mistress's Bella and Sissy's questions as best as Kreacher could," he muttered. "Kreacher only told them of how Master cares for that nasty brat of a blood-traitor and a Mudblood."

"You told them about Sirius and Harry?" Albus demanded as Kreacher turned to look up at him. That brief moment of eye-contact told him the truth. He looked into Kreacher's mind and almost had to use force to see. He watched as the hard treatment that Sirius gave him since he had arrived here, how Kreacher left the night that Arthur had been attacked to the one other family that he felt that he could turn to, how kind that Narcissa were when he showed up… but most of all… the plan they hatched…

"You hurt Buckbeak?" he demanded. "On purpose… to draw Sirius away should Harry try to contact him in the fire?"

Kreacher laughed and turned away. "Oh, the old man is clever. Very clever… Kreacher wonders how he knows."

"What else?" he demanded. His heart was beating fast in his chest as panic took root and started to grow. Kreacher had gone to Narcissa. He must have told her what he knew, and he knew plenty. And Narcissa told Lucius…

The connection…

He felt the need to curse himself for not seeing it sooner… Voldemort planted a false image inside Harry's mind… they tricked him into trying to contact Sirius and convinced Kreacher to make sure that he wouldn't be downstairs when he did.

Harry had never in his life taken so great a risk except when danger to those he love were involved. He never would have chanced using Umbridge's fire unless something major had inspired him to do so. So Harry still thinks that Voldemort somehow captured Sirius and is now holding him at the Department of Mysteries.

"Kreacher!" he demanded. "What did they want Harry to do?"

"To go to the Department of Mysteries," he laughed out loud. "And Master went after him."

And Albus knew why… for he knew that the little glass ball that was waiting there…

_S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D._

_Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter_

He turned and almost ran from the room. Harry had done a lot of foolish things before, but this had to be the worst yet… it was clear what happened here. Voldemort wanted Harry there to take the prophecy down from the shelves… and once his Death Eaters get it _and_ Harry as well…

How could he be so reckless, so foolish? After everything everyone has done to keep him safe… he goes and does this…?

But as soon as he thought that, he stopped, his hand on the doorknob. His mind went back to a night so long ago…

_*Flashback*_

_Albus was heading up to his office on a dark night, far after midnight. The winter was almost over and spring was on its way… but the darkness that was pressing in on everyone was so deep that the promise of spring hardly came noticed._

_He opened the door to his office and shut it tightly behind him. The people, who had been waiting for him, jumped and turned their heads at them. Albus gave them all an apologetic smile, but there was no twinkle in his eye as he moved around to his cabinets to retrieve his Pensieve. _

_As Albus moved to his desk, four pairs of eyes followed him. _

"_Professor Dumbledore?" Lily Potter asked him as Albus put the stone basin down in front of them. "What's wrong?"_

"_Yes, why did you suddenly call us all here?" James asked as he looked to the second couple. James had been pacing around the office in an frustrated way as Lily sat in the chair, playing nervously with her long hair._

"_I'm afraid that I called you all here because I have something that you must know," he said softly._

"_What's so important that you couldn't tell us during the last Order meeting?" Lily asked him._

"_Because what I am about to tell you both is something that must be kept a secret," he answered her grimly. "A few nights ago, I went down to the Hog's Head to see a teacher for the post of Divination. The applicant, you see, is the great-great-granddaughter of a very famous, very gifted Seer and I know that I should at least go and meet her. At first I didn't think that she would be suitable for the post… but just as I was about to leave…"_

_He sighed and raised his wand tip to his temple and removed a long strand of memory and let it fall into the Pensieve. He looked up at the young couple in front of him and sighed miserably, knowing that their hearts were about to break at this news. He raised his wand, and watched as the smoky figure of a woman that looked like a glittering insect rose out of the bowl. A raspy voice filled the room as all five of them listened intensely to the words she spoke. _

_Even long after the words had been spoken and the figure of Sybill Trelawney sank back into the bowl, no one could say a word. Finally, James choked out, sounding as if he had a bad head cold, "Professor…? What did that… did that mean… what does that mean?"_

_Albus sighed and answered him, "It means… very soon, a person will challenge Lord Voldemort… and he will be born at the end of this July… a baby boy born to parents who have already escaped Voldemort three times… this boy will be destined to either destroy or be destroyed by the Dark Lord."_

_For a moment, the two seemed too stunned to speak. "Does that mean…?" Lily croaked out, tears in her eyes, her hand automatically going to her belly, "Does that mean that…?"_

"_That the child that either you or Alice deliver is the one the prophecy is talking about," Albus answered for her. "Voldemort has marked both of your families for death… you see… the servant who heard this prophecy only heard the first part and has no idea to what the entire prophecy means." To protect Lily, he couldn't bring himself to tell her __who__ it had been who heard it. "And he believes that the child referred to, will be yours or the Longbottoms. He won't stop hunting either of your families until he is sure that both are dead."_

_"James," Lily began, her voice strangled and wet with tears as she spun to stare him, who was looking as if someone had hit something very heavy in his face. "What are we going to do?"_

"_It'll be alright," he said to her comfortingly, wrapping his arms tightly around her, as tears fell down from her brilliantly green eyes. "We'll keep you and the baby safe. He won't come anywhere near us."_

"_I spoke with Frank and Alice yesterday about this," Albus said to the horrified parents-to-be. "He's not taking any chances and is planning to come after you both. But I feel that I must tell you… He seems to consider your child the bigger threat. This is why I must insist that you and the Longbottoms go into hiding right now. Voldemort has already made it very clear that he won't stop until he is certain that everything he considers a threat is out of his way."_

_James was standing beside Lily and was rubbing her back comfortingly, but Lily seemed too heartbroken to move._

_"Well," James responded slowly, trying to sound stable and strong, despite everything that he just heard, "We're… we're just going to have to change our plans…"_

_"Again," Lily muttered softly._

_"Again," James repeated. "We both knew that it was only going to be a matter of time… we're both in the Order and we knew that he would have come after us sooner or later… and you're getting pretty far along after all. Once the baby is born, we'll put up extra defenses around the house. And we'll pull away from… most people." Albus could tell that James was trying to avoid using the word 'hide'._

_Lily nodded._

"_Look," James said, bending down and taking her hands. "It's going to be ok… I promise that Voldemort won't come anywhere near either of you while I'm alive."_

_Albus smiled sadly at them both he said, "I am sorry to have to tell you this. But we are lucky that we now know that he is after you so that we can try to prevent anything happening to you. I know that this is hard for you, but you both must go into hiding."_

"_But why my baby?" Lily demanded, half scared, half furious. "He's not even born yet but Voldemort wants him dead?!"_

"_Voldemort has always put too much faith in magic," Albus said grimly. "He believes that magic can't be wrong. Now that he knows that a prophecy has been made foretelling of his defeat, he wants to put a stop to it as soon as possible. Your child may not be born yet, but he is afraid that he will grow into the one who will defeat him."_

"_But that's not fair to my baby!" she screamed out. "Why be born with that over his head?!" She looked close to crying now. "I can't tell you how I have been looking forward to his birth; but now it's like we're have to bury our baby before he's even born!"_

_James enveloped Lily in his arms. "No, no," he comforted, "I'll die before I let that happen. I promise you that he'll live through this war."_

_Lily was trying to keep the tears from falling but she said, "But it's too much! It's too much for a child to live with."_

"_We're going to find a way to stop this, Lily," Albus said firmly. "We still have time. We can protect you both in more ways than you could ever imagine."_

"_And he won't have to live with it alone," James said, pulling away to look at her. "He'll have us. We'll be there with him every step of the way."_

_"And we're going to love him no matter what," Lily smiled watery at him._

_"Of course. We already do," he said taking her hands._

_"But," Lily pointed out, sounding a bit calmer, "What if something happens to us?"_

_James gulped. "Then-then," he sounded strangely breathless, "He'll have Sirius, and, and Remus and Peter… he'll have the whole Order there to look after him right?" He then looked up at Albus and asked, "And you'll help protect him too right, sir?" he asked. _

_Albus gave them both a smile as he walked over and embraced Lily as well. "Right… we'll all do what we can to stop this war. After all… nothing is for sure. The future isn't written in stone."_

_*End of Flashback*_

Albus came back from that brief glimpse into the past. Ever since that Halloween night… he had done his best to protect Harry like he promised. He tried so hard to keep that promise to James and Lily. But somewhere along the way, from everything he had seen and watched, he had grown to truly care about the boy.

In his desperate attempt to keep Harry safe, he just continued to hold back information to protect him… but now look at what has happened…

"This is my fault…" he said to himself. "How I have let it get this far?!"

Slapping himself awake, he would worry about everything later. He had to get to the Ministry as soon as possible. He left the house and Disapperated just outside the front entrance of the Ministry. All he could do was hope that everything turned out well, that his actions were not so out of the right that many more would suffer.

**(Now, remember what Umbridge said to Hermione on how Dumbledore wouldn't be hiding in the Hog's Head? She's been wrong about everything else now so why not here? I hope you enjoy this chapter. Next time we see the scenes at the Ministry!)**


	53. Broken Spirit

**Chapter 53: Broken Spirit**

Bursting through the doors, he headed down the elevator and through dozens of rooms, trying to get some clue as to what room in the Department of Mysteries everyone was. A handful of the department's rooms that he did pass were half destroyed—clearly showing signs of a struggle and he knew that he was heading in the right direction.

When he went through Time Chamber, there was a stunned Death Eater on the ground, and another whose head kept changing into that of a baby, and then back into an adult. Ensnaring them both in strong ropes, he jumped over the shattered Time-Turners and continued through an office and headed down to the Brain Room.

To his relief, and horror, he found that four of his students were there. Hermione Granger was lying on her side—out cold on the hard floor. Ginny Weasley was leaning up against the wall, holding onto her ankle and hissing in pain, Luna Lovegood was in the center of the floor and moaning softly with blood entangled with her hair, and finally, Ron Weasley who was wrestling with a brain.

He moved forward to help but Ginny Weasley pointed wildly to the only other door and cried out, "Down there! Harry and Neville went running through there! They might be in trouble!"

He nodded in understanding.

"I'll send the others for you," he promised and headed down to what he knew was the Death Chamber. Holding his wand high, he came bursting through the door; and at once, he could see the chaos happening around them. He was standing up on the stairs and watched as members of his Order, and the Death Eaters dueled each other, the sounds of crashes and explosions, the different flashes of light flying every which way…

And just below him, were Harry and Neville Longbottom, and as he looked, he saw the remains of glass at their feet and the ghostly image of Sybill just disappearing.

"Harry, I'b sorry!" cried Neville, as his legs floundered around in an uncontrollable manner. "I'b so sorry, Harry, I didn'd bean do -"

"It doesn't matter!" Harry shouted, pulling him up and dragging him upwards. "Just try and stand, let's get out of -"

As he tried to regain control of his legs, Neville suddenly looked up and spotted him.

"Dubbledore!" he cried up.

"What?" Harry shouted.

"DUBBLEDORE!"

Harry turned to look up at him. Though he was relieved to see that they were alright, Albus also knew that there was work to be done. Hopefully they'd be able to capture the Death Eaters and get the children out quickly before anything else happened.

He almost flew down the stairs, passed Harry and Neville, and before anyone else knew that he was there it was too late. When the Death Eaters finally noticed, they all tried to make a break for it. One actually tried to climb up the stairs on the other side.

'_Oh no you don't,'_ he thought as he pulled him back with little effort.

As he rounded them up, he looked to see that most of his people were bleeding and hurt—Alastor was just getting up from the floor, his thick hair full of blood as he looked around for his missing eye and Tonks was still out cold; Remus, Kingsley, and Sirius were each still dueling separate Death Eaters. This was all good… it didn't seem as though anyone was too badly hurt.

He jumped down to help them all, trapping them all with ropes as the others started to fight even harder—feeling new hope.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" echoed a voice, that he knew belonged to Sirius. He sounded truly alive here—as if this fight was something that he had been waiting for all year. He could also hear Bellatrix's frustration as she fought with her own cousin, and Sirius was roaring with laughter. But suddenly, the laughter died at once. Knowing that something was wrong, he turned… and he saw, as if in slow motion, caused a helplessness and desperation to go throughout his whole body.

Sirius and Bellatrix were standing on the dais, right in front of where the famous veil and the archway were. An ancient, crumbling stone archway, unsupported by any surrounding wall, and the tattered curtain which fluttered as if a light breeze touched it… the veil that acts as a portal… linking the lands of the living and the dead…

There was still a touch of laughter still in Sirius's face, but his eyes were wide in shock. He stood there for a brief second before he slowly fell backward, his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards to the veil.

"No," he whispered as he watched the mingled fear and surprise on Sirius's face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, and then returned to its normal state.

Albus's throat became dry as he stared in horror at what just happened. He didn't believe his eyes; he was just sure that this was a nightmare and it wasn't true. But then Bellatrix let out a triumphant laugh—and he knew that this wasn't a dream. He had been preparing himself for someone's death throughout the year—almost waiting to hear it. But he never dreamt that this would happen like this… and not to Sirius…

That was when he heard a familiar voice shouting out, "SIRIUS! SIRIUS!"

That voice was more painful than anything else that happened to him that night. It was as if someone had stuck a dagger into his heart over and over again. He turned, and in terror, saw that Harry had left Neville and was now running to the dais.

He was about to raise his wand to stop him, but just as Harry reached the foot of the doorway, Remus charged behind him and grabbed hold tightly, keeping Harry from going anywhere. Despite the pain in his heart, Albus felt immeasurable gratitude towards Remus at that moment.

"There's nothing you can do, Harry -" he heard Remus say loudly as he struggled to pull him back.

"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!" Harry shouted out, fighting tooth and nail to break free.

"- it's too late, Harry," Remus said firmly; his tone wasn't sad… it was… defeated. Albus couldn't stand to listen to it.

As Harry continued to shout out, Albus wanted to cover his ears and block out the distraught voices. He knew that everyone had to die at some point, but he hadn't expected it quite so soon, and certainly not Sirius. It was as if he was trapped and couldn't escape…

But there was no point in denying it.

This was his fault.

It was his fault that Sirius had died, it could only be his fault. He had foolishly forced himself to believe that he could prevent any of this from happening… only for it to backfire. In his determination to keep the truth from everyone—especially from Harry—he had ended up making another mistake that cost someone his life.

Why? Why? _Why?_ Was all he could think. Why did he let this happen? How could he have let it get this far?

"He can't come back, Harry," he heard Remus call out again, his voice breaking—from the effort of holding back Harry, or stopping the flood of emotions that were welling up inside him—he didn't know. "He can't come back, because he's d-"

Albus tried to swallow back the lump in his throat.

"HE - IS - NOT - DEAD!" roared Harry. "SIRIUS!"

He did his best to push that shout out of his ears as he went back to rounding up the Death Eaters in the center of the room. There was movement going on around them, pointless bustling, the flashes of more spells. Alastor crawled over to Tonks and attempted to revive her as Kingsley charged forward to deal with Bellatrix. He looked up again and saw that this time, Remus dragged Harry away from the dais, who had suddenly become limp; and he knew that Harry finally realized the truth.

He didn't know what to say or do for that moment. But before he could think of something, there was a loud bang and a yell from behind the dais. Just as he spun around, he saw Bellatrix hitting Kingsley and making a run for it up the stairs. He aimed a stunning spell at her, but she deflected it; and was halfway up the steps now.

"Harry - no!" cried Remus. Distracted, he looked to see Harry had pulled himself free and went after her.

"Don't go after her!" he called to Harry, but he wasn't even sure if Harry could even hear him now.

"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" bellowed Harry. "SHE KILLED HIM I'LL KILL HER!"

"No," Albus said, hurrying with an Anti-Disapparation Jinx around the Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy glaring at them all furiously, before he took off after the boy. Harry wasn't thinking straight, he had to stop him. Justice is one thing, revenge is another. But no matter what was happening, Bellatrix was a dangerous woman. Harry couldn't beat her… he had to stop him before something else happened.

He dashed past Neville and ran up the stairs after the two of them. He ran back into the room with the swimming brains and stopped only to blast the brain that was now turning Ron's face blue.

"Dumbledore!" Remus shouted, he looked up at once to see Remus charging in after him. He made to go on, but Albus waved him down. "The children in this room need you more, I'll get Harry."

Remus opened his mouth to argue but finally noticed the other four and nodded. Breathing hard, Albus turned and ran back into the rotating room, calling out where they went. The room stopped spinning and a door opened… the door that led to the exit. Charging out of the room, he went up flights of stairs—he had been her at the Ministry enough times to know his way around, and how to get through quickly.

He sped forward, hoping that he would make it in time. _'Please, please, please…'_ he silently begged inside his head as he reached the first floor. _'If something else happens, I won't be able to ever forgive myself.'_

Just as he reached the first floor and could see the gates, he heard it. A familiar, high and cold voice calling out, "Can't I, Potter?"

Whatever hope he had quickly faded as fear sank in again. Tom was here.

He ran harder and faster than he ever had in his life, raising his wand; he reached the Atrium floor and there he was. Tall, thin and black-hooded… Lord Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the hall, his wand pointing at Harry who stood there frozen, the broken fountain behind him gushing water everywhere.

Tom's back was to him as he raised his wand. "I have nothing more to say to you, Potter," he heard him say quietly. "You have irked me too often, for too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Without even thinking, he reacted instinctively. He pointed his wand at the statue behind the boy, causing the, now headless, statue of the wizard in the fountain to jump down and leaping between Harry and Voldemort. The spell merely bounced off its chest as the statue flung out its arms.

"What -?" cried Voldemort, staring around wildly until he spotted him. And then he breathed, "Dumbledore!"

Breathing hard, he stood there in front of the golden gates, his wand held high—readying himself for a fight. A look of fear and hatred came across Voldemort's face, but Albus didn't have time to deal with it as he quickly glanced around. Harry was still behind the statue, which was now forcing him backwards, away from Voldemort, as Bellatrix was sobbing at her master's feet. Understanding now, Albus turned back to his former student just as Tom had raised his wand at him again.

Knowing what was about to happen, he turned and disapperated so that he was standing right behind Tom—missing the curse all together. He didn't have time for this. He had to get himself and Harry out of this mess now. So he turned to the other broken statues and charmed them to come to life—ordering the witch to hold Bellatrix, having the goblin and house-elf to alert the Ministry officials, and chose to use the centaur to help him with this battle.

He looked at Harry out of the corner of his eyes and was glad to see that the headless guard kept shunting him backwards towards the wall, blocking his every attempt to get out from behind it.

One less thing to worry about…

He then turned his full attention back to Tom. "It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom," he told him calmly. "The Aurors are on their way."

"By which time I shall be gone, and you will be dead!" he spat furiously.

Like that would happen… he may have taught Tom a great deal, but he didn't teach him everything that he knew. Albus was prepared to die someday, but it wasn't going to be today if he could help it.

In his anger, Tom sent another killing curse at him, but he moved back in time so that it hit a desk instead. He then flicked his wand again and cast a powerful spell that has been known to destroy entire buildings. But as he thought, Tom was able to deflect it by conjuring a shield. The deep, gong-like note reverberated from it showing just how powerful the spell had been and seemed to send chills down his spine.

It was then that Tom's eyes narrowed from behind the shield and commanded, "You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?" he sounded more confused than angry now. "Above such brutality, are you?"

Albus shook his head sadly. "We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom," he said softly, coming forward. Even if he could kill Tom, he knew that it wouldn't matter; for even if he could, he also knew that it would only be temporary. However, after finding out about that trick to get Harry here, having Death Eaters hurt his students, and costing Sirius's life, he felt anger burning inside him. "Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit."

"There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!" snarled Voldemort.

Albus fought the urge to sigh. Even after everything he had been through—forced to live as a specter for thirteen years, still hasn't learned his lesson… the same lesson that he, himself, learned long ago. "You are quite wrong," he explained. "Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness."

Tom's eyes flared with fury and he shot another jet of green light from behind his shield. This time, Albus used the centaur to take the attack, but knowing that he had only seconds, he drew back his wand and created a binding flame to trap Tom before the pieces hit the floor.

He knew that it would take a lot more to finish Tom. And sure enough, the rope turned into a serpent and turned its flat head back to him—almost flying towards him as it released Voldemort. As soon as he was free, he then disappeared. Knowing how Tom liked to work, he knew that he was right behind him. He called Fawkes to help him just as he felt Tom appear on the plinth where the statues once stood. But he had to deal with the snake first, he trusted Fawkes to protect him for now.

"Look out!" he heard Harry yell just as he felt the heat of the spell coming at him and the snake lunging forward to strike. The sound of wings sounded behind him and the next thing he heard was the sound of flames burning. Thankfully, Phoenix's cannot truly die by magic. He used this brief moment to deal with the snake and caused it to disappear, before focusing on the water from the fountain to rise up and entrap Tom once again. Inside the cocoon of water, he watched as Voldemort turned to face him and saw the furious red eyes widened in malice.

And suddenly he disappeared… the water splashing the floor, flooding it. And that was what caused the real fear…

Not once during the battle did he feel fear for himself. But now he was almost shaking with it. He couldn't see Tom… He didn't know where Tom was or what he was planning anymore. In the faint shadow of a moment, he had been foolish enough to believe that Tom was gone.

Brilliant he was—had always been—since he had been from such an early age. Cruel, but brilliant. Being barely ten feet away, the anguish plea should have been so much louder—perhaps it was his own deafening thoughts that drowned Bellatrix's voice out, but he hardly heard her as he stared around.

A slight movement from beside him caused him to cry out, "Stay where you are, Harry!"

His voice echoed off the walls, unable to hide the fear that was filling him. Turning slowly, he reached desperately for a hint in what Tom was threatening to do now.

'_Please, let me be wrong,' _he begged. But no sooner had he thought that did he hear it.

He heard a strange choking sound and a shout of pain. He spun back in the direction of the nose and saw the statue being blasted away from Harry as the boy suddenly collapsed.

His gaze landed on Harry, and his heart seemed to stop. His worst fear, the one thing he feared had finally happened. He had seen the shadow of Voldemort lurking behind Harry's eyes and had done his best to push him away to protect him. He had hoped Voldemort would leave him be, would perhaps think that Harry was not as important as he truly was. But now Harry's eyes were distorted; dark, livid, and full of pain.

"Kill me now, Dumbledore!"

Though it came from Harry's mouth, it wasn't just his voice… it was mixed in with Voldemort as he fell to the ground.

"NO!" he shouted, paling. Tom discovered just how strong the connection was and was now using it against them. Albus desperately hoped Harry would be able to use what he learned in Occlumency to fight Voldemort off. But as he watched the boy in front of him was struggling, facing a battle that he alone had to fight; he forgot everything else. Prophecy child or not, he couldn't be expected to fight this alone…

He felt tears burning his eyes as Harry was now writhing on the floor, and suddenly the horrible voice spoke up again.

"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy…"

"Harry," Albus whispered, now on his knees next to him, his hands out and searching for something he could do, some spell or charm, but there was nothing he could do to help here. He did not know what to do. In all his long years, with all the enemies he had faced, with all he knew, all he could do was watch helplessly as someone's mind was, literally, being torn apart.

"Harry," he said softly, "Harry you have to fight him."

But he wasn't sure if Harry could even hear him. Staring around for something, anything, to help—he felt a sensation he was quite unfamiliar with… panic. He knew that Voldemort was right, death truly was nothing, but it was to himself that it was nothing. He was old, he lived his live… not Harry, not him. Harry was the one person who he couldn't let die like this; Harry's life was the one thing that his own life, and so many others, had become about. He had spent all year trying to force those thoughts and feelings down, but they rose up wildly as he saw what was happening…

But even after all this, he couldn't do anything but sit and watch him die, anyway. And there was nothing he could do.

Harry suddenly screamed and his back arched as he rolled onto his stomach. It was too much… he would not be able to bear this much longer. Albus reached out and smoothed a hand over the boy's head—that was suddenly burning hot. He kept his touch on the boy, willing the comfort to help him somehow. "Harry… I don't know what's going on inside your head," he whispered to him. "But you can't let him win. It doesn't matter how alike you two are."

The dark, red eyes looked up at him as the breathing became hitched, twitching horribly… Albus knew just how much that thought must have scared him all year, he was only sorry that he never said it before now. "It's how you two are different that matters."

Suddenly, Harry opened his mouth and whispered, "Let the pain stop… let him kill us… end it, Dumbledore… death is nothing compared to this… And I'll see Sirius again…"

Albus shook his head, feeling as if his own heart was breaking. Harry wanted him to kill him, he did not care anymore. And he knew that it was Harry speaking, he didn't need to see the shift in Harry's eyes, saw a flicker of Harry's own self to know that.

"Harry… please…" he whispered, his own heart breaking. He couldn't do it… he could never bring himself to kill him…

Just then, Harry's eyes widened in agony and he let out an unearthly scream of pain. He reached down and gripped Harry's hand tightly, wondering just what was happening inside him to cause this. Harry suddenly gave a shuddering gasp, and became limp… his eyes shut and his body cold as ice.

Feeling numb, Albus's shaking hands suddenly shook his shoulders. "Harry? HARRY?!"

Harry didn't respond at all. But then, Albus heard a howl of rage and agony. He looked up to see that Voldemort had reappeared—but now it was different. Tom's face was contorted with pain, and he was gasping for air; a mixture of loathing and twisted pain on his snakelike face.

Tom had released him; Albus looked down to Harry and suddenly understanding went through him. Without wasting another second, he stood up and positioned himself between Harry and Voldemort—not going to let Tom near him again again.

"Try as hard as you will, Tom," he said firmly. "But you cannot beat someone like him."

Tom turned to give him a face of fury—holding up his wand—readying himself for another duel. But it was too late… at that moment, people started flooding into the Atrium through the fires. He lightly looked up to see many Ministry officials and, to his delight, seeing Fudge with them. Most of them were in their nightclothes, all of them looking tired and angry… but as soon as they looked up to where the fountain once stood… they stopped dead… all of them were staring with looks of shock and horror at Voldemort.

Albus looked back, knowing that Tom had lost more than just the prophecy now. Voldemort backed away, towards the statue that trapped Bellatrix, he gave her a look of anger and disgust before he grabbed her…

And they vanished.

They were gone… just like that…

Breathing hard, he turned back to Harry and bent down, fear griping him again. What had happened with Harry? Was he alright?

"Harry?" he asked softly, feeling sick inside at what had happened here. His breathing had become painful as he waited—kneeling down and looking at the unmoving body, fearing the worse. Finally, after a few more minutes, Harry finally moved.

Harry's bright green eyes slowly opened, and he could see that it was Harry, not Tom inside. He watched as he reached out with a shaking hand to grab his glasses and slowly looked up at him. His eyes were squinting at him, as if he was having trouble making him out.

"Are you all right, Harry?" he asked softly.

The boy didn't seem to be able to hold his head up, he was shaking so badly, and he did reply hoarsely, "Yes. Yeah, I'm - where's Voldemort, where - who are all these - what's –" He wasn't able to complete full sentences, shaking like a leaf. It is probably the aftermath of a painful possession, added to the trauma of what happened, it is a miracle that the boy is still alive

He looked up again, staring at what was happening around them. Albus sighed in relief—but he couldn't help but stop the sick feeling. Harry was still shaking violently, and in that instant Albus found that he had never hated himself more. Here was a boy who had already been asked to bear so much, and here he sat and he could do nothing to stop what he knew had been coming.

But for now, he was just relieved that he was alive and sane, he stood up and helped Harry back onto his feet. He also looked up to see the people coming in through the green flames. A flood of witches and wizards were emerging from them; all of them talking about what they just saw. He ignored them for a moment as Harry swayed slightly as if he was on a ship. He supported him until he was sure that Harry could hold himself up before he looked to see the stunned-looking Cornelius Fudge coming forward.

"He was there!" shouted a man he knew at once as Williamson. "I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!"

It was a shame that Bellatrix escaped, but at least now that Fudge had no choice here but to admit the truth. There was no way that he could deny everything now.

"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!" gibbered Fudge, and Albus felt a bit of malevolence pleasure to see how fearful he was. "Merlin's beard -here- here! - in the Ministry of Magic! - great heavens above - it doesn't seem possible - my word - how can this be -?"

'_Because you were a blundering idiot,'_ he thought, glaring at him. He could not believe that such an incompetent Minister had ever been elected. If he had showed half a brain and listened in the first place, then none of this ever would have happened… he looked down at Harry one last time to see the broken, defeated look on his face and looked away quickly, suddenly feeling as if he had just insulted himself.

Doing his best to hide this, he stood up to his full height and said loudly, as he walked forward so that they couldn't help but see him, "If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius, you will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them."

Though, knowing Fudge, he'll probably close his eyes and pretend it was all just a bad dream. Maybe even think that the Death Eaters were the victims here. He then felt irritation how some of the wizards raised their wands at him and Fudge jumping as if he didn't believe his eyes.

"Dumbledore!" gasped Fudge, beside himself with amazement, pointing at him with a shaking hand. "You-here-I-I"

He looked wildly around at the Aurors he usually had around him and Albus frowned, already guessing what he was about to do. But he didn't have time for this… he was sick of acting pleasant and patient with these people. They need to wake up from their dream world and face reality. And after they saw Voldemort with their own eyes, they would have to. He knew that there is no way that he would be able to hide this from the public.

He then called out in a thunderous voice, "Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men - and win, again! But a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong men for twelve months, and it is time - you listened to sense!"

Fudge just stared at him stupidly, "I - don't – well," he stammered as he stared around him, wondering what to do. Finally he said, "Very well - Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see… Dumbledore, you - you will need to tell me exactly - the Fountain of Magical Brethren - what happened?" he added in a kind of whimper, staring around at the floor as if he just realized that the Atrium was mostly destroyed.

"We can discuss that after I have sent Harry back to Hogwarts," he said firmly. He didn't want Fudge, or anyone else, to question Harry why he was here… not until he had a chance to talk to him first before anything happened.

"Harry - Harry Potter?" he repeated.

Albus fought the urge to roll his eyes—honestly, who else would he be talking about?

Fudge wheeled around and stared at Harry, who was still standing against the wall beside the broken wizard head and jumped again.

"He - here?" said Fudge, goggling at Harry before looking back at him. "Why - what's all this about?"

'_Things that happened because you were too big of an idiot to try and prevent them,' _he thought, but instead he said, "I shall explain everything, when Harry is back at school."

He then went to retrieve the golden wizard's head on the ground and turned it into a Portkey.

"Now see here, Dumbledore!" said Fudge, as he picked up the head and carried it to Harry. "You haven't got authorization for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister for Magic, you – you…"

Was he really worrying about that now? His threats didn't mean a thing. He could kiss his career goodbye after all this. And after everything that happened here, the last thing that he wanted to do was deal with him… he glared at him over his glasses as Fudge stopped, suddenly looking like a child who had been told to be quiet. He then said quietly, but firmly, "You will give the order to remove Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts."

Words that he had been wanting to say since she had been assigned to Hogwarts.

"You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you…" he said as he pulled out his watch to check the time. "Half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the Headmaster will find me."

Fudge looked as if his eyes were about to pop out of his head, his mouth was open and he started turning red.

"I – you…" was all he could muster out as he turned away, almost forgetting what he had to do now. He was going to send Harry back to his office; he was going to tell him everything now.

"Take this Portkey, Harry."

He held out the Portkey and Harry placed his hand on it, looking more tired than he had ever seen him. As if he were an old man himself, and no longer cared what happened to him.

"I shall see you in half an hour," he told him quietly, his heart aching and looked at the Portkey so that he wouldn't have to look at the dead, empty look anymore. "One… two… three…"

And then he was gone.

Albus sighed, knowing that Harry was safe at the moment, and he turned back to head to the Department of Mysteries. "Come with me," he commanded from Fudge and the Aurors.

He was so lost in his thoughts, that he barely heard Fudge bombard him with questions as they headed back to the Department of Mysteries. His heart was heavy with what he knew he had to do… but it lightened greatly when he saw that his five other students were already being moved back to Hogwarts and—according to Alastor, Tonks was being to St. Mungo's but should make a full recovery after a day or two.

Once he had overlooked the transfer of the children and Tonks to St. Mungo's and Hogwarts, he turned to Kingsley and Moody who were sitting on nearby tables looking beaten and tired. Staring around, he asked, "Where's Remus?"

Alastor gave him a grim look as he dropped his magical eye into a tall glass of water, and had a large pack of ice over his head, and jerked a thumb to the door that led to the Death Chamber. Albus sighed, knowing full well what was happening. He walked past them and towards the door as Kingsley started explaining to the other Auror's what had happened here.

He spotted Remus straight away. He was standing in front of the archway through which Sirius had fallen, staring at the black veil flowing gently in the breezeless room. His arms were hanging limply at his sides, and his head was bowed low so that his graying hair had fallen over his face, covering his eyes.

Albus moved slowly down the stairs and across the room softly, where he gently put a hand on Remus's shoulder. He didn't make a sound, just listening to the whisperings and murmurings that were coming from behind the veil, like the sound of a light wind.

After a few minutes, Remus asked, "Harry?"

"I sent him back to Hogwarts," Albus said softly. "He is safe. The other students had been moved as well… Tonks will need to spend a few days in St. Mungo's but her injuries aren't life-threatening. All in all, everyone else made it through."

Remus nodded slowly, still not looking at anything else.

"You hear them too…?" he asked him suddenly, and Albus didn't need to ask what he meant. He looked up at the veil and listened. He heard the rumors… how only a handful of people can have the ability to hear these voices, and the degree to which they can be heard, is related to the individual's belief in an afterlife. These voices are said to be the whisperings of the dead, talking to their loved ones from the other side.

"I can…" he said softly, closing his eyes almost being able to hear Ariana's sweet voice again.

"Why?" Remus croaked and Albus glanced at him.

"Why him? Why now? Why not me? Harry - he… he needed him," Remus whispered, now shaking, his hands curled into fists. "He needed Sirius there. And Sirius needed him…"

Albus honestly didn't know what to say to him that could take away the pain he was feeling. "I don't know, Remus. I truly don't know. But what I do know, is that that's how Sirius wanted to go. Fighting to protect someone he loved."

"But it's not fair…" he whispered, sounding close to tears. He whispered so silently that he almost missed it.

"No, it's not," Albus agreed sadly. Sirius's death had also got to him as well, thinking about the lively trouble-maker with his best friends at his side. The kind of people who could laugh and even make others smile when everything seemed hopeless—a truly rare gift… one that was now gone forever. "But… you knew him better than I did, Remus…" he said softly. "And I know that he wouldn't want us to suffer. And now… I guess we can think of him finally being set free. He will no longer be held by walls or darkness… he is free from all prisons now. He is with James and Lily too so he's not alone… he wouldn't want us to suffer for him. He would want us to keep living."

For the first time Remus looked towards him who gave him a sad smile. Remus gave him a small smile back and nodded in thanks. Albus, knowing that he needed to be alone, gave his shoulder another gentle squeeze before he left him, slowly making his way back up the stairs. But as he left, he could have sworn that he heard loud sniffles and a shuddering gasp of a man who was trying to hold back tears.

Albus returned to where everyone else was and answered whatever questions that he could. He was grateful for Kingsley being here and doing most of the talking for him. Albus simply put his hand into his pocket and felt Fawkes there. He had remembered to pick up the little baby bird after he sent Harry back to school, and feeling him there seemed to give him some comfort.

"Give me strength for what I have to do next," he whispered to his old friend.

He stayed for a few minutes longer before he checked his watch and saw that his time was almost up. He was afraid that if he let Harry dwell for too much longer, it would drive him over the edge.

He turned and left Fudge standing there as he headed to the nearest fire. "If you need me, contact me in a few hours time," he told him firmly. "I have something that I must do."

"Now see here," Fudge demanded, but Albus turned to glare at him, stopping Fudge in his tracks.

"I have other, more important things to care for right now," he said darkly. "If you had heeded my words from a year ago we wouldn't be here now would we? Because of your incompetence, we just ended up losing a dear soul and hurt countless people. Because of the mistakes of foolish old men…" he hesitated for a brief second, knowing that he was talking to himself as well, "We ended up hurting a soul that had already suffered so much."

He didn't dare look at Fudge, knowing that his own anger could cause him to do something he might regret.

"I have to talk to that broken soul right now, who is most likely blaming himself for all this," Albus said turning back and walking away. "I don't want to hear another word from you for the next few hours."

He then gathered up a handful of Floo Powder from one of the many fireplaces in the Atrium and turned to the roaring flames, but then he stopped. Now that he was finally about to return to his office, he felt a since of fear and dread at what was waiting for him.

The time had come…

He had to tell Harry… everything…

Taking a deep breath, Fawkes letting out a tiny chirp in his pocket seemed to give him strength as he threw the powder into the fire and stepped inside. Before he could change his mind, he said, "Headmaster Office, Hogwarts…"

And he was gone in a whirl of flames.

**(So we finally made it to the chapter that everyone's been waiting for. Sorry, but you have to wait a little longer. And I'm sorry for the long wait. I'm still in school, and I've been working on final exams and projects.)**


	54. The Most Pain

**(And we finally reached the one chapter everyone's been dying for.)**

**Chapter 54: The Most Pain**

Albus had always hated travelling by Floo powder… even in his old age, he hadn't have gotten used to the sensation. He let himself go spinning through the flames and smoke… he passed through dozens of other fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond — but he wasn't truly seeing anything—his thoughts on what it was that he was going to have to do once he reached his destination. Soon enough, he could feel himself slowing down and knew that the trip was over.

He held his hands out, and soon, he was climbing out of his fireplace and back in his office. Breathing the fresh air, he looked around him to see that the familiar office, which at one point would've felt warm and welcoming, had been repaired since the night of his departure. It most likely to the house-elves while he was gone.

He glanced around and spotted Harry, standing far back, with a startle expression; and he knew that he must have taken him by surprise.

As he straightened up, the portraits all gave cheers of welcome, to which he gave them all a polite, "Thank you," avoiding Harry's gaze the whole time. But this time, it was different to all the other times this year. He had been ignoring Harry for the sake of protecting him… but now, he just couldn't bear to look directly into those green eyes for what he had to do.

Instead, he walked over to Fawkes' perch, and pulled out the baby bird so that he was nested in the soft ashes. Albus smiled softly at him as he gave his head a gentle stroke—a silent _thank_ _you_ as well for saving him.

Now that he was here, he suddenly found that he couldn't move from where he stood. He didn't want to move… hoping that time would stop and he didn't have to do what he knew he had to. Harry didn't say a word to him, so the tension in the air was so thick that he could feel it. It was impossible not to think of what happened… the fact that they just lost Sirius…

Sirius… dead…

Albus shut his eyes tightly for that moment. He had tried to keep him safe, but in the end Voldemort used Harry's feelings for his godfather to lure him out—and Sirius paid the price for his godson's safety with his life.

At that thought, he suddenly remembered to what he promised him the night that he learnt the truth about Sirius Black…

_"Promise me… that you'll protect Harry. Please, don't let anything happen to my godson; he's more precious to me than anything else in this world. I know I'm not much of a godfather… hell, I'm probably the worst one to have ever lived! But please, please protect him for me."_

He opened his eyes and felt tears slowly starting to well up once again. Sirius…

Guilt rang through his soul as Fawkes looked up and chirped encouragingly. Feeling slightly braver, he took a deep breath and finally turned to Harry. "Well, Harry, you will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the nights' events."

Harry, who was standing near the window, merely looked away and mouthed the word 'Good' though there was no sound to it. With the way Harry was refusing to look at him, he had a feeling of how much it must have hurt him to have done the same thing all year. But he did his best to push on, trying to let him know that his friends and all the others were going to be alright. "Madame Pomfrey is patching everybody up. Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St. Mungo's, but it seems she will make a full recovery."

Harry nodded at this, still not looking at him. His eyes were oddly blank, his face just contorted with misery. Albus felt his heart ache, not knowing what else to say or do to help ease this pain. For he recognized that look at once… he remembered seeing that it every time he looked in the mirror…

Harry blamed himself for Sirius's death…

"I know how you are feeling, Harry," he said softly, and suddenly, Ariana's dead eyes were looking back at him.

"No, you, don't," Harry responded, finding his voice, but this time he sounded angry.

Albus didn't say anything, but he didn't need too, for Phineas chose at that moment to speak up, "You see, Dumbledore? Never try to understand the students. They hate it. They would much rather be tragically misunderstood, wallow in self-pity, stew in their own – "

Albus looked up at him with a grim look. "That's enough, Phineas," he said before Phineas could continue his rant. Listening to Phineas now wasn't going to help things. He knew that Harry was angry… angry at what happened to Sirius… but it was anger at himself. He was lashing out the only way he knew how… because he hadn't been able to grieve properly. Depression is a result of a deep sense of loss or repressed, pent-up anger. Harry had been forced to see one of his friends killed right in front of him for no reason just a year ago, before he was tied, tortured, and almost killed as well. Add to that… the guilt and anger he had at himself for believing that it was his fault. An adult would have an extremely hard time dealing with that, but Harry was only fourteen at the time the Triwizard Tournament ended. Harry is angry, guilty, and feeling helpless about the whole thing. It is natural… he is only human.

Harry turned to face the window, his face was overshadowed with pain as he stared out of the Quidditch pitch. Albus tried again, to show him that it was alright to let out what he was feeling.

"There is no shame in what you are feeling, Harry," he said softly. "On the contrary… the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength."

This was what made the biggest difference between Harry and Tom. Tom doesn't feel… he cannot love. But Harry can… that was where his strength came from.

But Harry spoke again, his voice now shaking, refusing to look at him, "My greatest strength, is it?" He shook his head. "You haven't got a clue… you don't know…"

"What don't I know?" Albus asked him. He knew that he had to stay calm and allow Harry to release what was inside him. He had tried to keep him safe, but that only resulted in this resentment and short temper. He had to let him get this anger out, to be free of most of the negativity he held within, so that he could begin to grieve properly for Sirius…

Harry finally turned to look at him, anger burning in his eyes. "I don't want to talk about how I feel, alright?" he cried out, and Albus could see that he was very close to losing it. He needed to give it that one final push… he had to let him get these emotions out.

"Harry, suffering like this proves that you are still a man! This pain is part of being human – "

And he had finally pushed him too far.

"THEN – I – DON'T – WANT – TO – BE – HUMAN!" Harry roared, he then grabbed the closest item to him, which happened to be one of his silver instruments, and flung it at the wall across the room so that it shattered all over the floor into pieces.

Several portraits shrieked out of fear and anger, and Armando Dippet said, "_Really!"_

No, this was good for him. Harry had been keeping all this rage bottled up inside all year, and that wasn't healthy. He had to let him vent…

Harry continued his rant as he then seized hold of another instrument and broke that too. "I DON'T CARE! I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE – " and cut off, as he grabbed the table and broke that too.

Albus ignored the other portraits as Harry kept breaking everything that he could reach.

He knew that Harry had cared for Sirius deeply, and that he was coming to see Sirius as a father figure. Sirius had given him a connection to his parents, someone who loved him…

It wasn't the objects that the young man was destroying, but rather it was his words that were difficult to bear. His voice just penetrated the walls he tried to build around him this whole year. He remembered how hard he had tried to distance himself from him, hoping that Tom couldn't realize just how much he had come to care about Harry. He had hoped that if Tom thought that he saw him as no different than any other student, then he would be less tempted to try and use this connection.

But now that had all been for nothing.

At the Ministry, after Tom disappeared for that moment, in the brief period when Voldemort had possessed Harry, it had been Harry who had begged him for death. He knew that it could never have been Tom… after all, look at what he had been willing to live as for all those years of exile?

"You do care," Albus said quietly. "You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."

This was all true—this he knew. If he felt nothing after this, then he wouldn't be hurting like this. Albus could see it… guilt, regret, betrayal, sorrow… rage… He knew that this was where most of his pain was coming from. He kept losing parental figures and felt alone. It was because of this that he was forced to grow up so quickly without having someone there to guide him along the way.

He wished that he could go back in time and prevent this from happening; how he wished that he could have changed the past to save him from all this. This was the reason why Lily and James wanted to join the Order in the first place… so that their son could live in a world of peace… not have to live a life filled with so much loss. They wanted a world for him where he could be happy and free from war. If they could see him right now then they would be so proud—and sad.

Harry then screamed out that he didn't care, insisting that he felt nothing. But he knew that this was just a lie he was trying to convince himself with. The look on his face was filled with so much fury, Albus knew that it was only going to be a matter of time before these objects weren't enough and he would want to start attacking him.

But he went on. "Oh, yes, you do. You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. Of course you care."

Being left alone to stew in his anger, guilt, and sadness—how else could Harry get that anger out in a positive way? And he knew that the Dursleys haven't helped… there truly have been no caregivers helping Harry through this. And he also knew just how frustrated he must have been at everyone for keeping him in the dark all that time. Then, he almost has his soul sucked out again by two Dementors…

As well as having this resentment fueled even further thanks to the Ministry. They wanted to expel him first for defending himself against those Dementors, and when he got a hearing it's as if they were all erratically slapping him in the face. And then there were the papers pleasantly looking in the other direction on what was really happening, while the rest of the wizarding world believed that he was some attention-seeking liar. He was also forced to endure the physical and mental torture of Dolores Umbridge with those damn detentions of hers. He looked to Harry's right hand as he finished breaking another object, and he could see the faint lines of 'I must not tell lies'.

He felt sick to himself for honestly believing that Harry was alright. He should've been able to see that not all of these terrible feelings have been coming from just himself. Not only had Harry trying to handle his own feelings, but he also has to deal with Voldemort's. He has basically been carrying around with him the thoughts and emotions of two people. It was only now did he realize that it was his own negative emotions that were making him weak against Voldemort… not his mind.

And what happened last night… Harry was almost killed by Voldemort, saw his own godfather murdered right in front of him—and again, feels that it is his fault—just as with Cedric. With all that has been happening inside him all year, it's only natural that he finally snaps. It had to happen. Harry could not have held all of that anger in forever, so he had to let it out.

And who better to vent his anger and frustration at but at _him_? Who better than the person who should have been helping him and guiding him but instead shut him away? Who better to storm at than the man who had refused to even look him in the eye the entire year?

"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL! YOU – STANDING THERE – YOU – " Harry yelled, shaking with rage, looking close to pulling out his wand and cursing him right now. He didn't seem to be able to find the words to explain what he was feeling—couldn't even speak in complete sentences. Albus didn't react at all, knowing that this was what he needed most right now… not medicine, or sleep… he needed to be rid of all those negative emotions…

But even as he yelled and destroyed everything his hands were touching… Albus knew that Harry was wrong about one thing. After all, he knew better than anyone how it felt to feel as if you lost everything. He too had lost his own family… he lost his parents, his sister, and—in a sense—his little brother. Since that day, he had constantly blamed himself for all of that… he might not know someone's particular feelings are all the time… but he could understand Harry's very well.

When Ariana was attacked by those Muggle boys, she was left mentally and emotionally scarred by the event and her magic grew to become random, and even destructive. Their father was heartbroken and set out in search of his own brand of justice and was imprisoned for it. Years later, after his mother's death and he had been forced to return home to care for his siblings, Ariana was killed in a battle with him, Aberforth, and Gellert. Because of this, all he had left of his family was a broken relationship with his brother. So, in a way, he no longer had any family left.

This pain of which may have been the basis for his deep affection for Harry. But the difference was, Harry still had his friends… he had countless people who loved him and would be there for him. There was just something special about him that drew people around him without even asking. Something that he had always admired, and even envied, about him.

He watched as Harry's eyes began looking all over, and he knew that it was a way to escape. Harry didn't wish to talk, or even look at him anymore; all he wanted was to leave this room where he couldn't look at him. He turned out to be right, for Harry turned and ran to the door and tried to open it.

However, the door was still locked from when he left, and he wasn't going to let him leave this time… not until he finally came out and told him what he should have told him long ago. Once he was finished telling him everything, then he would allow him to do what he wanted.

Harry turned back to him, still tugging on the door—desperate to leave. "Let me out," he said, his whole body now shaking with fury.

Albus gave him a sad look and shook his head. "No," he said softly. A part of him just wanted to let him out… but he also knew that even though it's difficult to speak of traumatic experiences so soon after they happen, sometimes it's necessary. In order to understand what fully happened, it often is best to speak of it right away.

"Let me out," Harry repeated, this time more sharply.

Again Albus told him no.

"If you don't – if you keep me in here – if you don't let me – " Harry started to threaten, still tugging on the door, unable to finish what he wanted to say, those his meaning was clear.

Albus then said, "By all means continue destroying my possessions. I dare say I have too many."

He couldn't have cared less for the objects that now lay in broken fragments on the floor. They were repairable… but a person's heart wasn't nearly as easy to heal. If destroying everything he owned helped to keep the boy from destroying himself, then it would be more than worth it.

He slowly walked back to his desk, and sat down, never taking his eyes off him. He was going to let him see that he was going to show him that he wanted to help him. He wasn't going to let him leave until he heard him out.

Harry was breathing low and hard. And when he spoke again, in was in a much calmer, but cold as ice voice, "Let me out."

Albus took a deep breath and said firmly, "Not until I've had my say."

Harry glared at him. "Do you – do you think I want to – do you think I give a – I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'VE GOT TO SAY!" he finally exploded. He turned back and was now tugging on the door with such force that he might just force it open if he kept at it for much longer. "I don't want to hear _anything_ you've got to say!"

He knew that Harry was not rational enough to be thinking through what he was saying. He knew that he must have been the last person that he wanted to talk to right now. It was only fair after all… he hadn't been acting as if he cared all year. He remembered when he heard his portraits reported to him not long after the year began. Saying how that his scar was all he seemed to care about.

He shook his head again. That wasn't true in the slightest; though he could see on why he would think that. After all, all he had done was keep him in a cage since the end of last year. And he should have known that would result in nothing but pain. For when you lock a beast in a cage, it was going to get mad and when it does finally break out… it hurts itself, and others in the process.

Harry's anger was the beast that had finally escaped.

He had to prevent that from happening again and went on, "You will. Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it." He tried to speak without showing any emotions, but his sadness and his own guilt managed to slip through.

That got Harry's attention. Breathing hard, he stopped pulling on the door and slowly looked up at him. "What are you talking – ?" he began, clearly not understanding what he was saying.

Albus took a deep breath and said slowly and clearly, "It is _my_ fault that Sirius died." He then added, "Or should I say, _almost_ entirely my fault – I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole."

He hoped that Harry could also learn to do the same, but he continued, "Sirius was a brave, clever and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger." Harry flinched a little at those words. Albus shouldn't have shut Sirius up in Grimmauld place like how he did… he had convinced himself that it was for his own safety, but he should've been able to see how it would end. He should have allowed Sirius to leave on missions once in awhile… to get him out of that house… but there wasn't anything that they could do about it now. He pushed those thoughts away for the moment, there would be time to grieve later.

"Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight," he said firmly. "If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have come after you. That blame lies with me, and me alone."

Now Harry was fully paying attention to him. He was still standing with a hand on the door knob, but he was now staring at him, looking completely bewildered.

"Please, sit down," he asked, hoping that Harry calmed down enough for him to be willing to listen. The longer that he prolonged this, the more difficult it seemed to become. Harry hesitated for a moment, and then very slowly, he walked over and sat in the chair in front of his desk. But he could see that he was still very tense, looking ready to jump up and start breaking things again.

Albus was just about to open his mouth again when Phineas Nigellus spoke again, but not in his usual sarcastic tone—and Albus almost forgot that he had a connection to Sirius as well. "Am I to understand that my great-great-grandson – the last of the Blacks – is dead?"

He looked up at him and said softly, "Yes, Phineas."

Phineas stared at him, before he said briskly, "I don't believe it." Phineas then walked out of his portrait without another word, and he knew that he was going to go to visit his other painting back at Grimmauld Place and see for himself.

He looked at the empty canvas for a brief second before he looked to Harry again; wondering just how to begin. Finally, he decided at the beginning. "Harry, I owe you an explanation. An explanation of an old man's mistakes. For I see now that what I have done and have not done with regard to you, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it is like to be young… and I seem to have forgotten, lately…" he confessed. Yes, he had forgotten. He had tried so hard to convince himself that there was still time… that Harry was too young to take all this in…

But he had forgotten what it was like to be young as well. Youth always hated to be treated as if they were too young—to be treated as if they couldn't understand. He could see now that Harry had been ready for this knowledge a long time ago. He stared off at the sun through the window that was just beginning to rise before he looked back to Harry and explained, "I guessed, fifteen years ago, when I saw that scar on your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort."

Harry suddenly interrupted darkly, "You've told me this before, Professor."

"Yes," he nodded apologetically, but he had to start at the beginning. It was easier for him to start off with what they both knew. "Yes, but you see – it's necessary to start with your scar. For it became apparent, shortly after you rejoined the magical world, that I was correct, and that your scar was giving you warnings when Voldemort was close to you, or feeling powerful emotion." He knew what was inside him… what had happened that night, but he had prayed and prayed for proof that he was wrong. However, instead, he kept getting more and more proof that his theory was correct.

But those dark thoughts were interrupted when Harry answered back in a weary voice that he was already aware of all of this.

"And this ability of yours – to detect Voldemort's presence, even when he is disguised, and to know what he is feeling when his emotions are roused – has become more and more pronounced since Voldemort returned to his own body and his full powers."

He stopped here for a brief second, wondering if Harry would say anything, he didn't so he went on, "More recently, I became concerned that Voldemort might realize that this connection between you exists. Sure enough, there came a time when you entered so far into his mind and thoughts that he sensed your presence. I am speaking, of course, of the night when you witnessed the attack on Mr. Weasley."

Harry gave a jerk of the head as he said gloomily, "Yeah, Snape told me."

"_Professor_ Snape," he corrected him gently, ignoring the annoyed look he was giving him. But Albus then asked him, knowing that he was very well making him angry again, "But did you not wonder why it was not I who explained this to you? Why I did not teach you Occlumency? Why I had not so much as looked at you for months?"

Harry froze and slowly glanced up into his eyes. Albus could see the hurt in his own eyes as they met his… that had been hard for both of them… he didn't like pushing him farther away anymore than he did.

"Yeah," Harry said carefully, but still not letting his guard down. "Yeah, yeah I wondered."

It was getting a little easier to keep talking now, "You see, I believed it could not be long before Voldemort attempted to force his way into your mind, to manipulate and misdirect your thoughts, and I was not eager to give him more incentives to do so. I was sure that if he realized that our relationship was – or ever had been – closer than that of headmaster and pupil, he would seize his chance to use you as a means to spy on me."

That had been his biggest fear. That Tom would realize that this connection could be put to use. The idea that his very presence was a danger to him was what scared him worst out of everything else this year. It had been the driving force behind his actions. "I feared the uses to which he would put you, the possibility that he might try and possess you. Harry, I believe I was right to think that Voldemort would have made use of you in such a way. On those rare occasions when we had close contact, I thought I saw a shadow of him stir behind your eyes…"

He remembered those few moments when he saw the flicker of red behind those green eyes and Harry was staring at him, as if he knew exactly what he was saying. He then went on to explain that he had done it all to try and protect him. "Voldemort's aim in possessing you, as he demonstrated tonight," he said and saw Harry flinch softly at the memory of what happened in the Atrium, "Would not have been my destruction. It would have been yours. He hoped, when he possessed you briefly a short while ago, that I would sacrifice you in the hope of killing him. I have been trying, in distancing myself from you, to protect you. An old man's mistake…"

He remembered back at the Ministry when Harry had just begged to die. He couldn't do it. He knew that should he have been left with no other choice, he could never have lived with himself. It had taken years for him to be able to look in a mirror again after Ariana's death, but to kill another who was so like her would have killed him.

Even if it could have meant that the war would end, he wouldn't ever have been able to forgive himself. He looked at him again… Harry and Ariana… it was almost like he was looking at her spirit inside the boy's and that was like putting salt into a wound. It hurt so badly.

But when he looked up and saw those green eyes, it changed… instead of seeing Ariana, he saw a younger version of himself looking back at him. For he knew that same look of guilt and pain all too well… As he waited for Harry to speak, he could tell from his lifeless motions that Harry no longer cared what he had to say. All of this information meant nothing compared to Sirius's death.

"Sirius told me you felt Voldemort awake inside you the very night that you had the vision of Arthur Weasley's attack," he added grimly. "I knew at once that my worst fears were correct: Voldemort had realized he could use you. In an attempt to arm you against Voldemort's assault on your mind, I arranged Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape."

He could see now that having Severus try and teach him had just been another mistake. He was very much like his father…

He stopped himself. He had to stop this. He hated comparing Harry to others… such as Ariana or even as James. Harry was his own person and they were different. He thought Severus could get over his hatred of James, if he could see his memories. To overcome his hatred and finally leave his past behind, but he is too blinded. He always tried to find excuses for his past actions… he blamed James for everything that happened. He blamed James for losing Lily and joining the Death Eaters.

Severus just didn't want to admit that everything that happened in his life were because of his own actions. At the time, he wanted power over Lily… it was a lesson that most often learn the hard way. The sad fact out of life is that you can't have everything. You must always make sacrifices in life and Severus just chose wrong at the time. But it was easier for him to live with himself by just blaming James. And his hatred for Harry was because Harry was a living reminder that Lily had loved another.

Severus wanted to hate James… that hatred for him was the only thing that seemed to help ease his own sense of guilt.

Only now did he fully realize just how strong his hate was.

"Professor Snape discovered that you had been dreaming about the corridor to the Department of Mysteries for months. Voldemort, of course, had been obsessed with the possibility of hearing the prophecy ever since he regained his body; and as he dwelled on the door, so did you, though you did not know what it meant," he said explained more. "And then you saw Rookwood, who worked in the Department of Mysteries before his arrest, telling Voldemort what we had known all along – that the prophecies held in the Ministry of Magic are heavily protected. Only the people to whom they refer can lift them from the shelves without suffering madness: in this case, either Voldemort himself would have to enter the Ministry of Magic, and risk revealing himself at last – or else you would have to take it for him. It became a matter of even greater urgency that you should master Occlumency."

And of course, Harry didn't know that. He never understood just why it was so important. But now, he was sitting there, staring at him in horror. "But I didn't," he croaked out. "I didn't practice, I didn't bother, I could've stopped myself having those dreams, Hermione kept telling me to do it, if I had he'd never have been able to show me where to go, and – Sirius wouldn't – Sirius wouldn't –"

Harry cut himself off, unable to continue for a brief moment. Albus could see that just mentioning Sirius's name was painful for him and now he had just found out that he could've stopped himself from ever seeing that vision. He looked up at him and said hurriedly, with a hint of a plea in his voice, "I tried to check he'd really taken Sirius, I went to Umbridge's office, I spoke to Kreacher in the fire and he said Sirius wasn't there, he said he'd gone!"

Albus could only give him a sad look. He knew that this was going to be another terrible shock for him, but he had to know the whole truth of what happened here tonight.

"Kreacher lied," he confessed. "You are not his master, he could lie to you without even needing to punish himself. Kreacher intended you to go to the Ministry of Magic."

Harry's jaw dropped open in disbelief. "He – he sent me on purpose?"

"Oh yes," he answered him. "Kreacher, I am afraid, has been serving more than one master for months."

"How?" asked Harry, looking stunned. "He hasn't been out of Grimmauld place for years."

"Kreacher seized his opportunity shortly before Christmas when Sirius, apparently, shouted at him to 'get out'. He took Sirius at his word, and interpreted this as an order to leave the house," he told him. He explained how Kreacher had then gone to Narcissa Malfoy, how even slightest aggravated command of Sirius had allowed Kreacher to leave the house, interpreting it as a demand to leave Grimmauld place.

"How do you know all this?" Harry questioned weakly.

"Kreacher told me last night," he explained to him. "You see, when you gave Professor Snape that cryptic warning, he realized that you had had a vision of Sirius trapped in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries. He, like you, attempted to contact Sirius at once. I should explain that members of the Order of The Phoenix have more reliable methods of communicating than the fire in Dolores Umbridge's office. Professor Snape found that Sirius was alive and safe in Grimmauld Place."

He wanted Harry to see that, despite everything, Severus was on their side—to help him get over his own hatred of Severus, even if their Potion's Master refused to do so. "When, however, you did not return from your trip to the Forest with Dolores Umbridge, Professor Snape grew worried that you still believed Sirius to be a captive of Lord Voldemort's. He alerted certain Order members at once."

He sighed tiredly, and forced himself to keep speaking. "Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Remus Lupin were at Headquarters when he made contact. All agreed to go to your aid at once. Professor Snape requested that Sirius remain behind, as he needed somebody to remain at Headquarters to tell me what happened, for I was due there at any moment. In the meantime, he, Professor Snape, intended to search the Forest for you."

Harry just sat there, frozen in his seat, as if he was sure that this was a nightmare he was listening to. Albus took another deep breath and said, "But Sirius did not wish to remain behind while the others went to search for you."

'_Of course he didn't,' _he added mournfully in his thoughts. He cared about his godson and wanted out of that house. He wasn't going to wait around for the others to go get him. If Harry was in danger, he wanted to be the first one there. He was aware of the fact that Sirius had always felt a great deal of guilt over Lily and James's deaths and had always blamed himself for the fact that Harry grew up without parents. Sirius felt as if he let him down before then he would have felt that he couldn't live with himself if he knew that Harry was in danger and he didn't do anything to help.

"He delegated to Kreacher the task of telling me what had happened. And so it was that when I arrived in Grimmauld place shortly after they had all left for the Ministry, it was the elf who told me – laughing fit to burst – where Sirius had gone."

"He was laughing?" Harry said in a hollow voice.

"Oh, yes. You see, Kreacher was not able to betray us totally," he told him. "He is not Secret Keeper for the Order, he could not give the Malfoys our whereabouts, or tell them any of the Order's confidential plans that he had been forbidden to reveal. He was bound by the enchantments of his kind, which is to say that he could not disobey a direct order from his master, Sirius. But he gave Narcissa valuable information of the sort that is very valuable to Voldemort, yet must have seemed too trivial for Sirius to think of banning him from repeating it."

"Like what?" Harry enquired, his tone now empty.

His eyes soften and he told him honestly, "Like the fact that the person Sirius cared most about in the world was you. Like the fact that you were coming to regard Sirius as a mixture of father and brother. Voldemort knew already, of course, that Sirius was in the Order, and that you knew where he was – but Kreacher's information made him realize that the one person for whom you would go to any lengths to rescue was Sirius Black."

"So…" Harry whispered out, hardly audible, "When I asked Kreacher if Sirius was there last night…"

"The Malfoys – undoubtedly on Voldemort's instructions – had told him he must find a way of keeping Sirius out of the way once you had seen the vision of Sirius being tortured," he informed him. "Then, if you decided to check whether Sirius was home or not, Kreacher would be able to pretend he was not. Kreacher injured Buckbeak the Hippogriff yesterday, and, at the moment when you made your appearance in the fire, Sirius was upstairs tending to him."

Harry's breaths were low and hard, almost as if he was choking. And when he spoke again, he looked as if he was about to be sick. "And Kreacher told you all this… and laughed?"

"He did not wish to tell me, but I am a sufficiently accomplished Legilimens myself to know when I am being lied to, and I – persuaded him – to tell me the full story, before I left for the Department of Mysteries," he said truthfully.

Harry shook his head, looking down at the floor, his tone was full of anger once again as his hands curled into such tight fists that they were shaking, and the white scars on the back of his hand were clearer than ever. "And, and Hermione kept telling us to be nice to him –"

"She was quite right, Harry," Albus interrupted him. Yes, Kreacher betrayed Sirius, but it was in a way similar to how Dobby betrayed the Malfoys. Though Kreacher wasn't abused like Dobby was, he was certainly neglected. "I warned Sirius when we adopted twelve Grimmauld Place as our Headquarters that Kreacher must be treated with kindness and respect. I also told him that Kreacher could be dangerous to us. I do not think Sirius took me very seriously, or that he ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a human's – "

Harry looked up at once, his eyes glowing with new fury. "Don't you blame – don't you – talk – about Sirius like – Kreacher's a lying – foul – he deserved – "

But he broke him off, gently correcting him, "Kreacher is what he has been made by wizards, Harry. Yes, he is to be pitied. His existence has been as miserable as your friend Dobby's. He was forced to do Sirius' bidding, because Sirius was the last of the family to which he was enslaved, but he felt no true loyalty to him. And whatever Kreacher's faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher's lot easier – "

But he said the wrong thing.

"DON'T TALK ABOUT SIRIUS LIKE THAT!" Harry yelled, his rage now back in full swing. He stood up at once again, pacing the room furiously. Albus should have guessed that this would happen. Harry was too emotional to see the whole thing through right now. Now that he knew what Kreacher had done, it wasn't going to be easy for Harry to forgive Kreacher… if ever.

"What about Snape?" Harry suddenly demanded as he paced. It seemed as though Severus wasn't the only one who wanted to find someone to blame. "You're not talking about him, are you? When I told him Voldemort had Sirius he just sneered at me as usual – "

He gently defended Severus, aware of the risks that he took to help protect Harry and the school. At that moment, he wanted so badly to tell him the truth about how Severus felt about Lily—but he kept his mouth shut tightly about that. He had promised Severus, and he had to keep it, even though it would have been easier for everyone.

"Harry, you know Professor Snape had no choice but to pretend not to take you seriously in front of Dolores Umbridge, but as I have explained, he informed the Order as soon as possible about what you had said. It was he who deduced where you had gone when you did not return from the Forest. It was he, too, who gave Professor Umbridge fake Veritaserum when she attempted to force you to tell her Sirius' whereabouts."

Harry continued on, "Snape – Snape g – goaded Sirius about staying in the house – he made out Sirius was a coward – "

Now Severus had taunted Sirius to get some semblance of justice for what he had suffered at the hands of the Marauders during his school days. Though they were both adults and should have been able to handle that. "Sirius was much too old and clever to have allowed such feeble taunts to hurt him."

"Snape stopped giving me Occlumency lessons! He threw me out of his office!" Harry snarled, trying to find a reason to justify his blaming of Severus. And here, Harry was right… though his anger should have been directed towards him, not Severus.

He sighed heavily, "I am aware of it. I have already said that it was a mistake for me not to teach you myself, though I was sure at the time, that nothing could have been more dangerous than to open your mind even further to Voldemort while in my presence – "

Though his fears had been correct, he hadn't gone about the right way to deal with them. Harry then cut him off, "Snape made it worse, my scar always hurt worse after lessons with him – how do you know he wasn't trying to soften me up for Voldemort, make it easier for him to get inside my – "

He interrupted firmly, "I trust Severus Snape. But I forgot – another old man's mistakes – that some wounds run too deep for healing. I thought Professor Snape could overcome his feelings about your father – I was wrong."

Though Severus blamed James for everything that was wrong with his life, he knew that Severus had no one to blame but himself for the choices he made. But in the end, he turned his life around. He knew that he truly regretted his earlier decisions, and had done his best to make up for them. This feud between Severus and James wasn't going to end easily. But the truth was that there had to be forgiveness from both sides or else nothing was ever going to change. But to have to pass this hatred onto another generation was just tragic to him…

"But that's okay, is it?" Harry went on with his rant, "its okay for Snape to hate my dad, but it's not okay for Sirius to hate Kreacher?"

He shook his head at him. "Sirius did not hate Kreacher. He regarded him as a servant unworthy of much interest or notice. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike… the fountain we destroyed tonight told a lie. We wizards have mistreated and abused our fellows for too long, and now we are reaping our rewards."

Kreacher wasn't the only one either. All that meant Harry as well. By leaving him with the Dursleys, he might have just locked him inside that house himself. He was aware of the neglect he suffered, considering what he knew of Petunia, and what Arabella had told him when she kept watch over him. The neglect he faced there did more damage to him than anything else… and once again, Albus was having that shoved back into his face.

"SO SIRIUS DESERVED WHAT HE GO, DID HE?" Harry suddenly exploded, breaking through his thoughts.

He responded quietly, "I did not say that, nor will you ever hear me say it. Sirius was not a cruel man, he was kind to house elves in general. He had no love for Kreacher was a living reminder of the home Sirius had hated."

"Yeah, he did hate it!" Harry said fiercely, his voice shaking, walking away, his back to him. "You made him stay shut up in that house and he hated it, that's why he wanted to get out last night – "

That he couldn't deny. Yes, he had kept Sirius locked up there, but he hadn't meant for this to happen. He wanted to keep Sirius safe… he truly meant what he said to Sirius when he first told him to remain in Grimmauld Place. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing Harry lose anymore than he had already.

"I was trying to keep him alive," he said softly.

But his words just seemed to make him even angrier for he spun around and yelled at him, "People don't like being locked up! You did it to me all last summer!"

Those words were like a slap in the face. The truth was however that he was right…

He closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands, unable to face him. He had moved on from blaming Severus… and to him. He could understand thought even if it made him feel as if his insides were shriveling up in shame. Harry truly thought that he didn't care for him at all. And though he had every right to think that, it was far from true.

He remembered when he was eleven and stepping up to the Sorting Hat. He was very small and thin… clearly showing signs of neglect, but his eyes were shinning in excitement as well as fear as he looked around. When he watched him go up to try the Hat on and then heading to the Gryffindor table, Albus had been able to forget all about those terrible words that spoke of war and the downfall of Voldemort.

Seeing that young child, and being able to act like one, was better than anything he thought.

But as the years went on, and he watched that same child overcome one ordeal after another, he began to see that young child fading fast… he didn't want to see that child innocence fade.

He couldn't bring himself to tell him.

He allowed Harry to be justifiably angry and destructive here to try and ease some of that crushing guilt, but that didn't change the fact that he had been wrong about so many things. He expected Sirius to stay hidden, hoping it would keep him alive. He was wrong about Snape's ability to overcome his hatred of James in trying to teach Harry about Occlumency. He regrets both leaving Harry with the Dursleys and not telling him about the prophecy. But he had feared his concern for Harry would make him vulnerable to possession by Voldemort. From the moment that he placed Harry at the Dursleys, it was as if he placed him inside a cage. Even after those difficult ten years, Hogwarts had become just an even bigger cage for him.

For the first time, he wanted to beg for forgiveness and confesses to his selfishness and why he did what he had done. Taking a deep breath, he finally looked up at him again and said, "It is time for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything."

When Harry didn't make any attempts to move he requested quietly, "I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me – to do whatever you like – when I have finished. I will not stop you."

He didn't know how Harry was going to react once he learns everything. But whether or not he yell or continue destroying these meaningless items… he would let him.

Still breathing hard, Harry glared at him with narrow eyes before he marched back and sat down—waiting.

Albus looked outside the window at the slowly glowing sky, trying to draw strength for what he had to do. Finally, knowing that delaying anything else was pointless he looked back and said to him, "Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole as I planned and intended. Well – not quite whole," he added quietly, thinking of all those ten terrible years. "You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle's doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years."

He paused here for a brief moment, waiting to see if Harry would say anything. He had just confessed that he knew of the terrible household that he had been forced to grow up in after all. Harry didn't say anything, but he was glaring coldly back at him.

"You might ask – and with good reason – why it had to be so," he went on. "Why could some wizarding family not have taken you in? Many would have done so more than gladly, and would have been honored and delighted to raise you as a son."

But the most important was to ensure that little boy had as much protection as possible, and Lily's sisters' family provided that… no matter how grudgingly.

"My answer is that my priority was to keep you alive. You were in more danger than perhaps anyone but I realized. Voldemort had been vanquished hours before, but his supporters – and many of them are almost as terrible as he is – were still at large, angry, desperate and violent."

He thought of Bellatrix as one of his prime examples and knew that she, and many others, would have loved the chance to kill they boy for what happened to their master. "And I had to make my decision, too, with regard to the years ahead. Did I believe that Voldemort was gone forever? No. I knew not whether it would be ten, twenty or fifty years before he returned, but I was sure he would do so, and I was sure, too, knowing him as I have done, that he would not rest until he killed you."

Harry still didn't say anything, so he felt that it was safe to continue on, "I knew that Voldemort's knowledge of magic is perhaps more extensive than any wizard alive. I knew that even my most complex and powerful protective spells and charms were unlikely to be invincible if he ever returned to full power. But I knew, too, where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated – to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother's blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative."

But there was still more to that. Apart from the blood wards, he knew that he would have been safer in the Muggle world with family, than in the wizarding world with a friend, even if Sirius had been proven to be innocent.

He knew that there would also be those who would provoke outcry against his placement. If Harry did not go to family who had an unquestionable claim, namely his aunt by blood, than there was a good chance that could have been sent to anywhere else. Knowing what government and politics were like, he had little doubt that the 'Boy-Who-Lived' would have been given to those who would use Harry to their own advantage, or alternatively he could have become as spoiled as Dudley Dursley was. He could imagine what would happen if someone like Umbridge or Fudge was given custody. While he was deeply upset about Harry's treatment, there's no telling what could have happened otherwise.

But Harry spoke up saying bitterly, "She doesn't love me. She doesn't give a damn – "

"But she took you," he interrupted softly. "She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet she still took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you."

He didn't say anything else, but Albus could see the sadness in his eyes at the reminder that his own family had never wanted him. But rather than say anything like that, he said, "I still don't – "

"While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort," he explained simply. "He shed her blood but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you still call it home, whilst you are there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years."

For a second, Harry didn't react, but then his eyes widen slightly as he sat up in his chair, staring at him. "Wait… wait a moment," he said in a hushed tone. "You sent that Howler. You told her to remember – it was your voice – "

He nodded his head slightly and explained, "I thought that she might need reminding of the pact she had sealed by taking you. I suspected the Dementor attack might have awoken her to the dangers of having you as a surrogate son."

"It did," Harry admitted quietly, running his hand through his hair in a bewildered way. "Well – my uncle more than her. He wanted to chuck me out, but after the Howler came she – she said I had to stay."

He fell silent again as he let him digests this new information. But soon, Harry asked him, "But what's this got to do with – " He stopped at once, it seemed that he couldn't bring himself to say Sirius's name.

So he continued as if there had been no questions, "Five years ago, then, you arrived at Hogwarts, neither as happy nor as well-nourished as I would have liked, perhaps, yet alive and healthy. You were not a pampered little prince, but as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far my plan was working well."

Harry had turned out to be very different from both of his parents. Though he resembled them in many ways, his personality wasn't as audacious or outgoing as they were. He was much more shy and had very low self-esteem. He didn't go out of his way to pull jokes nor did he laugh as much like his father… but he wasn't as bold and free-spirited as his mother had been either.

He'd seen it with his own eyes; people watching Harry wherever he went, hoping to catch a glimpse of the famous scar. A child who had suffered badly in his brief life and yet he took it all in stride. He retained his morals and his compassion when other simply would have given up. If there was anyone he should admire it would be the fifteen-year-old in front of him.

He then went on to explain about his first year. "And then… well, you will remember the events of your first year at Hogwarts quite as clearly as I do. You rose significantly to the challenge that faced you and sooner – much sooner – than I had anticipated, you found yourself face to face with Voldemort. You survived again. You did more. You delayed his return to full power and strength. You fought a man's fight. I was… prouder of you than I can say."

He couldn't hide the pride that was coming through on his voice. Even at the tender age of eleven, a child had proven to him that he was a better man than he was. Even then, he could see that Harry was a leader of superior quality to himself, as Harry led because others looked to him to lead them rather than because he had ever sought power or authority for himself.

But…

"Yet there was a flaw in this wonderful plan of mine. An obvious flaw that I knew, even then, might be the undoing of it all. And yet, knowing how important it was that my plan should succeed, I told myself that I would not permit this flaw to ruin it. I alone could prevent this, so I alone must be strong. And here was my first test, as you lay in the hospital wing, weak from your struggle with Voldemort."

And that was where it all went wrong.

Harry was shaking his head, clearly not getting what he meant. "I don't understand what you're saying."

"Don't you remember asking me, as you lay in the hospital wing, why Voldemort had tried to kill you when you were a baby?" he asked him, the words now becoming painful.

Harry nodded.

"Ought I to have told you then?" he asked him simply.

Harry stared at him, his eyes widening.

"You do not see the flaw in the plan yet?" he asked, thinking it over. "No… perhaps not," he added to himself. "Well, as you know, I decided not to answer you. Eleven, I told myself, was much too young to know. I had never intended to tell you when you were eleven. The knowledge would be too much at such a young age." And though he had believed it at the time, he also knew that Harry had proven himself that he could take it.

"I should have recognized the danger signs then," he said, wondering if he was speaking to himself or to Harry now. "I should have asked myself why I did not feel more disturbed that you had already asked me the question to which I knew, one day, I must give a terrible answer. I should have recognized that I was too happy to think that I did not have to do it on that particular day… you were too young, much too young." Why hadn't he questioned himself more? Why didn't he already realize that he was heading for disaster?

"And so we entered your second year at Hogwarts. And once again you met challenges even grown wizards have never faced; once again you acquitted yourself beyond my wildest dreams," he whispered. "You did not ask me again, however, why Voldemort had left that mark on you. We discussed your scar, oh yes…" he added as he thought back to their talk after they had emerged from the Chamber of Secrets. "We came very close to the subject. Why did I not tell you everything?"

Simple… he had already fallen prey to what he had known was going to happen. He remembered how afraid the boy had been—about how he feared of the similarities that he had with Voldemort—and how he questioned himself on belonging in Gryffindor.

"Well, it seemed to me, that twelve was, after all, hardly better than eleven, to receive such information. I allowed you to leave my presence, bloodstained, exhausted but exhilarated, and if I felt a twinge of unease that I ought, perhaps, to have told you then, it was swiftly silenced. You were still so young, you see, and I could not find it in myself to spoil that night of triumph…" he then stopped, hating himself for what he allowed to happen.

"Do you see, Harry?" he asked him. "Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid."

"I don't – " Harry started but Albus cut him off by coming out and saying it simply.

"I cared about you too much. I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act."

Harry stared at him, as if he couldn't understand why anyone would care for him so. But he hadn't been watching himself as Albus had. He knew Lily and James well and watched as Harry grew up and did incredible things. How could he not grow to care for him? Though Harry may come to believe it or not, he did come to love and trust him. Harry was not a pawn to him. Maybe that was all he wished that was all Harry ever was to him. He knew what Harry had to face and sacrifice and do, and he wanted him to be prepared for what his future held. He saw what the boy went through and how he rallied against setbacks: he didn't watch any other student this closely.

"Is there a defense?" he asked finally tell him the truth. "I defy anyone who has watched you as closely as I have – and I have watched you more closely than you could have imagined – " he was careful not to look at his portraits, who were all glancing at each other nervously, "not to want to save you more pain than you had already suffered. What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy? I never dreamed that would have such a person on my hands."

He stopped to breathe hard as he thought back to himself as a young man… right after he had returned to the school as a teacher. If someone had told him that he would been in this situation, he would never believe them. He then said, "We entered your third year. I watched from afar as you struggled to repel Dementors, as you found Sirius, learned what he was and rescued him."

Harry flinched a little at Sirius's name as he reminded him the joy he felt when he learned the truth about his godfather. "Was I to tell you then, at the moment when you had triumphantly snatched your godfather from the jaws of the Ministry? But now, at the age of thirteen, my excuses were running out. Young you might be, but you had proved you were exceptional. My conscience was uneasy, Harry. I knew the time must come soon…"

"But you came out of the maze last year," he heard his mouth then say, "Having watched Cedric Diggory die, having escaped death so narrowly yourself… and I did not tell you, though I knew, now Voldemort had returned, I must do it soon." He remembered seeing the empty look in his green eyes that day… the same eyes that were looking at him now, and he knew that he couldn't bare the idea of dropping this on him after everything that had happened that night. "And now, tonight, I know you have long been ready for the knowledge I have kept from you for so long, because you have proved that I should have placed the burden upon you before this. My only defense is this: I have watched you struggling under more burdens than any student who has ever passed through this school and I could not bring myself to add another – the greatest one of all."

He fell silent.

He knew that he needed to keep going, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Throughout his long life, there had always been a part of him that always lamented the fact that he never had children. In a way, perhaps that is why he was a little jealous of Sirius.

He didn't want to admit that he had come to care about Harry as like a son. He didn't want to admit that he had grown to love him.

Yet he never noticed. Never noticed even after he had watched him all these years; even after seeing him grow up and learn more about himself did he figure it out. How he had watched him at Quidditch and felt pride inside him. How he disapproved of his sneaking around, yet he couldn't seem to bring himself to punish him…

Harry is a brave young man with a kind heart, and he had grown to be as proud as any father would be. But more than anything, he realized that he had fallen prey to a parent's weakness; he cares more about Harry's happiness and wellbeing than the wizarding world. As a teacher and headmaster, he always has to be able to be a little removed from his students. However, somewhere along the way, Harry's happiness becomes his chief concern. The "greater good" is nameless and faceless, but Harry is a real boy who needed his protection and yet has more heart and soul than anyone could ever imagine.

He had told himself that the prophecy was too much information at such a young age so many times, that he had come to believe it. He did so much to try and protect him, but he failed. It was now he was reminded that there were just some things that even he couldn't protect people from. He was so focused on protecting Harry from the truth, he didn't realize what was actually best for them. That was the downside of loving someone.

Adults often refuse to believe that all children grow up. It is an inevitable fact of life, and, no matter how hard they try, they can only shelter them for so long. Some children grow up too quickly however… and for them they are already far too aware of the harsh reality of the world. The worst mistake that adults can make, is to try to keep those children in their youth. Harry had been stripped of his childhood, and for that Albus blame himself. He wanted to try and make up for that by allowing him fleeting moments he could savor, to be a kid.

They sat like that for a long time—neither one of them saying a word. Until, finally, Harry said in barely more than a whisper, "I still don't understand."

Albus let out a large breath, and finally confessed, "Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth. He knew the prophecy had been made, though he did not know its full contents. He set out to kill you when you were still a baby, believing he was fulfilling the terms of the prophecy. He discovered, to his cost, that he was mistaken, when the curse intended to kill you backfired. And so, since his return to his body, and particularly since your extraordinary escape from him last year, he has been determined to hear the prophecy in its entirety."

His breathing seemed to be becoming more and more painful with each word he forced himself to speak. "This is the weapon he has been seeking so assiduously since his return: the knowledge of how to destroy you."

Harry stared at him with a mixture of shock and horror. He opened his mouth but no words came out—it was as if he forgotten how. After about a minute however, he seemed to have found his voice and croaked out, "The prophecy's smashed."

He was now talking to himself, as if to convince himself, "I was pulling Neville up those benches in the – the room where the archway was, and I ripped his robes and it fell…" Harry's voice seemed to catch as he mentioned the archway.

Albus's eyes saddened as he explained, "The thing that smashed was merely the record of the prophecy kept by the Department of Mysteries. But the prophecy was made to somebody, and that person has the means of recalling it perfectly."

Harry blinked and asked, "Who heard it?"

"I did," he answered him gently. And so he told him about how he had met Sybill, though he didn't mention her by name. How he had told her that she hadn't gotten the job and how he had turned to leave.

Feeling older than he had in a long time, he stood up and walked passed him to retrieve the Pensieve. Though it was only a few steps from his desk, he felt as if he had just walked a mile to and from the cabinet. He picked it up and stared at the swirling substance for a moment, as if hoping for some kind of answer to a question he was dying to ask it.

But he slowly made his way back to the desk and set it down in front of them as he retook his seat. His mind was a flood of mixed emotions; he was deeply regretting that this prophecy ever had been made in the first place. If this had never been made, could it have stopped Voldemort from killing Harry's parents… yet, would he still be powerful and still in power? He wished he knew… but that's not important now.

Slowly, he pulled out his wand and thought hard about that night at the Hog's Head. He pulled the single memory from his mind and gently let it drop into the Pensieve. With a determination he wasn't feeling, he finally let Harry hear the truth… the truth that he had kept quiet from everyone else for almost seventeen years.

And suddenly the room was filled with Sybill's voice—a voice unlike her usual one…

_**"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…" **_

The words ended and the memory of Sybill sank back into the basin.

The silence was deafening. Even after all these years, the prophecy still sent waves of cold through him. Albus couldn't bear to look at Harry as he stared at the Pensieve… waiting for Harry to speak. He knew that Harry was capable of doing it… he knew that for almost as long as he had known him. But he couldn't help but curse that prophecy as well. Curse it for how much pain it had put one soul through.

Finally, Harry's voice spoke up, "Professor Dumbledore?" His voice suddenly sounded so small… he sounded as if he was holding back a choke. "It… did that mean… what did that mean?" he finally whispered in hardly more than a whisper.

Albus didn't want to answer him. But he knew he had no choice… he forced himself to look up at him and said, "It meant that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times."

Harry was staring at him, his breathing hard and loud as he asked, "It means – me?"

Albus swallowed, his throat didn't seem to be working properly for him and said softly, knowing that he had to tell him everything. "The odd thing, Harry, is that it may have meant you at all. Sybill's prophecy could have applied to two wizard boys, both born at the end of July that year, both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, both sets of parents having narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of course, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom."

Harry looked startled at that, and stammered, "But then… but then, why was it my name on the prophecy and not Neville's?"

"The official record was re-labeled after Voldemort's attack on you as a child," he explained. "It seemed plain to the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy that Voldemort could only have tried to kill you because he knew you to be one to whom Sybill was referring."

There was now a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes as he then said, as if hoping that he would agreed with him, "Then – it might not be me?"

Albus felt his chest constrict painfully as he knew he had to destroy that hope. To have to force that little light to leave his eyes again. He was basically going to tell him that there was no other way out of this nightmare. He then spoke, every word seemed to be like knives cutting his throat, "I am afraid, that there is no doubt that it _is _you."

But Harry was shaking his head, denying what he just said, refusing to believe it. "But you said – Neville was born at the end of July, too – and his mum and dad – "

"You are forgetting the next part of the prophecy, the final identifying feature of the boy who could vanquish Voldemort…" he interrupted gently. "Voldemort himself would _mark him as his equal_." And what little color that was left in Harry's face left as he realized that it was true. "And so he did, Harry. He chose you, not Neville. He gave you the scar that has proved both blessing and curse."

But Harry kept shaking his head, not wanting to accept it. "But he might have chosen wrong! He might have marked the wrong person!"

He knew how painful it was for him to acknowledge this, but he continued on, "He chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him. And notice this, Harry: he chose, not the pure-blood (which according to his creed, is the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing) but the half blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you, and in making you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave you powers, and a future…"

'_A future full of pain and uncertainty however,'_ said a nasty voice in the back of his head. Who would ever wish for such a life?

But he finished by saying, "Which have fitted you to escape him not once, but four times so far – something that neither your parents, or Neville's parents, ever achieved."

Harry was gaping like a fish out of water and finally cried out, gripping his hair tightly, "Why did he do it, then? Why did he try and kill me as a baby? He should have waited to see whether Neville or I looked more dangerous when we were older and tried to kill whoever it was then – "

'_Yes, but that might have changed everything,'_ Albus thought. If Voldemort never went after Harry when he was a baby, Harry would be a completely different person. In a way, Voldemort created the Harry sitting across from him right now. "That might, indeed, have been the more practical course except that Voldemort's information about the prophecy was incomplete. The Hog's Head inn, which Sybill chose for its cheapness, has long attracted, shall we say, a more interesting clientele that the Three Broomsticks. As you and your friends found out to your cost, and I to mine that night, it is a place where it is never safe to assume you are not being overheard. Of course, I had not dreamed, when I set out to meet Sybill Trelawney, that I would hear anything worth overhearing. My – our – one stroke of good fortune," he added in an afterthought, "was that the eavesdropper was detected only a short way into the prophecy and thrown from the building."

He didn't tell him who had been the one who heard it—for he knew that any hopes of Harry trusting Severus would then become impossible.

Harry was shaking a little as he leaned in and asked, "So he only heard – ?"

"He only heard the beginning," Albus confirmed for him, "the part foretelling the birth of a boy in July to parents who had thrice defied Voldemort. Consequently, he could not warn his master that to attack you would risk transferring power to you, and marking you as his equal. So Voldemort never knew that there might be danger in attacking you, that it might be wise to wait, to learn more. He did not know that you would have _power the Dark Lord knows not_ – "

But Harry was now looking close to panicking here. "But I don't! I haven't any powers he hasn't got, I couldn't fight the way he did tonight, I can't possess people or – or kill them – "

He didn't have to. Because he had so much more than Tom ever will. He then interrupted him by answering, "There is a room in the Department of Mysteries that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intellect, than the forces of human nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there."

This was what made him so different from Tom… Love.

Harry can love others—despite all the pain and hardships he had been through, his heart is still as pure as it had been when he was eleven. He may act recklessly at times… he can be hot-headed and short tempered even… but his actions had always been straight and unwavering… much like a child's.

It's basically a battle of good vs. evil here. Because Tom cannot understand love to such a degree that it has become physical agony for him. He now learned what it meant to try and take control of Harry tonight… pain. He was now confident that Tom would never try that again. Love is the weapon… that is rather fitting as love is something truly powerful which overcomes all things, he truly didn't think that Tom stands a chance against that.

"It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession from Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you."

Harry sat there, seemed too stunned to be able to speak. He closed his eyes and leaned forward onto his knees so that he could cover his face with his hands. Albus knew that no matter what he said, Harry would never be able to forgive himself for Sirius's death. Suddenly, Harry asked in a dull voice, "The end of the prophecy… it was something about… _neither can live_…"

"_While the other survives,_" he answered simply—fearing this part of the prophecy more than anything else.

"So…" Harry whispered, looking back up at him—his eyes were filled with despair and sadness. Albus felt as if his heart was being torn in two… if there was some way that he could take this burden from him, he would. To set him free from this terrible fate, he would trade places with him in a heartbeat.

"So, does that mean that… that one of us has got to kill the other one… in the end?" Harry asked him slowly.

He didn't want to answer… it was the one thing that he didn't want to say. To say it out loud would be like giving him a death sentence. But instead he felt his mouth respond for him… "Yes…"

For a long time, neither of them spoke. They both just sat there even long after the sun had risen and they could hear the sounds of students heading down to the Great Hall for their breakfast.

It was almost impossible to believe that so much can happen—can change—in just one night.

Harry's face was contorted in misery… the mental and emotional kind that was threatening to tear him apart. He was just sitting there processing the information he had just been given; taking the knowledge that he was cursed in. As Albus looked out the window, he could see the owls swooping over the grounds and heading in the direction of the Great Hall for the student's mail. Just then, he realized that in less than an hour, the whole wizarding world would know that Voldemort was back. That soon they would all see that the only ones who had been telling lies had been the Ministry for the last year. Albus also knew he would soon be flocked with messages from the Ministry and the Aurors, and that the Order would be contacting him with new information… but at the moment, he couldn't have cared less. For right now—there was nothing more important to him at that moment than the suffering boy across from him.

How the boy would deal, Albus didn't know. He knew that Harry was strong, but everyone had a limit, a line not to be crossed. Albus wished he knew what to do, what to say to him to help ease this pain.

He felt like an idiot. Everything that had happened to Harry, seemed to happened because it was his fault. He either had made a mistake, ignored something important, or had planned something that endangered Harry's life. How could he ever be able to ask for forgiveness?

Suddenly, he remembered something else. After the events in the Graveyard and the reaction of the Ministry to Voldemort's return, and their derision towards him, he didn't wish for the extra burden it would place on his shoulders. But _he_ didn't know that. Albus had a feeling that Harry thought that he thought he wasn't capable of responsibility. Though it was small, and insignificant to Harry at this point—he felt he could at least right one wrong.

He had been either violent shouting or questions, but after several more minutes of silence he then said hesitantly, as if afraid as he waited for Harry's reaction, "I feel I owe you another explanation, Harry. You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as a prefect? I must confess… that I rather thought… you had enough responsibility to be going on with."

His voice was shaky, and even though he was keeping his emotions inside, as Harry looked up at him, he couldn't stop the single tear from breaking through the walls around his heart and falling down his face into his beard.

"Harry?" he questioned, softly. But Harry looked away so he couldn't see what was happening inside his mind. It seemed as if he did learn one thing from Severus… eye contact was key…

Finally, Harry took a shuddering gasp and asked, his voice empty, "Is that all?"

He didn't have to look inside his mind to known that Harry was close to his breaking point and couldn't take anymore news.

Albus nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Harry then asked, "Can I go now?"

Albus nodded again, and wandlessly unlocked the door for him. When he heard the bolt unclick, Harry very slowly got up and headed to it. He walked in a way that an old man would walk as if under a heavy load. Harry opened the door—turned and gave him one last look. He didn't say anything, but he could see the pain and betrayal in those, now blank eyes. He then shut the door behind him and Albus listened to his footsteps until they died away. Suddenly he was left alone in the now silent office, listening to nothing but the sounds of his own breathing.

He just sat there and stared at the door for what felt like hours. For a moment… he wanted to rage and start destroying everything he could reach as well. Just to let out these terrible feelings that were tearing him apart inside.

But eventually, there was a hesitate voice from the walls.

"Shall… do you… want me to follow him, Dumbledore?" Dexter's hesitate voice asked, as if afraid that he would be destroyed for speaking.

Albus shook his head and folded his hands together so that he could rest his forehead against them. "No… let him be."

Most of his face was covered and he was glad for that… that was when the tears started to fall. He let out all the grief and sadness and for the first time in years he allowed himself to cry. He cried for the secrets that he had kept locked away inside him for so long. He cried for Harry's expression when he saw that Sirius was dead and for Remus's face when he stared at that veil. He cried for Sirius…

He let the tears fall until his sleeves were then soaked and he no longer had a tear to shed. He had known all along that Harry was connected to Voldemort, and that he has been prophesied to be the one to stop him. But he never told anyone—especially Harry all this because he didn't want to place the burden on his shoulders. Only now did he see what his mistakes have cost them. The truth was that he had grown so attached to the idea that Harry was a child to be protected that he deprived Harry the answers that would have prevented this.

He didn't tell Harry that Voldemort might try to lure Harry to the Department of Mysteries because he wanted the prophecy.

He didn't tell Harry why studying Occlumency and shutting Voldemort out of his mind was so important.

And he never told him that he still had faith in him after everything that had happened…

And even now… he never had a chance to say the two words that he wanted to say. He couldn't bring himself to ask for he knew he didn't deserve it… but he couldn't stop himself from whispering them to Harry even though he was no longer here.

"Forgive me…"

It was true to what they said… it was the ones closest to our hearts that cause us the most pain. And right now his heart was breaking into countless little pieces…

It's ironic how even with your heart breaking apart, you can still love someone with all the little pieces.


	55. Scars of Battle

**Chapter 55: Scars of Battle  
**

It had been several hours since Harry had left his office, but Albus hardly moved from where he sat the entire time. He leaned over in his seat, occasionally adding memories to the Pensieve in front of him before he would become lost in his thoughts.

It wasn't until noon did the flock of owls started to arrive to him; but Albus just couldn't seem to muster up the energy to answer them. He remained in a kind of stupor for a long time until; finally, he heard another knock on the door and looked up in time to see Severus walk in.

He watched as Severus glanced around the partially destroyed room and at the remains of the instruments that had been shattered and lay twinkling on the floor.

"I'm assuming that Potter was here?" he asked knowingly.

Albus merely nodded before looking back down into the bowl of swirling memories.

"I'm guessing that _he_ did this?" Severus asked silkily.

"Correct," Albus answered, his voice hoarse from not using it for a while.

"And you let him go around and destroy everything?" Severus rolled his eyes. "I swear you'd let him get away with murder."

"After all I put him through this year, he had every right to be angry with me," Albus sighed leaning back in his chair. "This was good for him."

"Good for him?" Severus repeated coldly. "That's no reason for you to let him go on a rampage and destroy your office."

"Severus," Albus sighed. Really, the last thing he wanted to deal with was Severus insulting Harry—especially after all this. "Please… is there something you wanted to talk to me about? If it's not important, then I would prefer to be left alone."

Severus blinked, a little surprise at his firm tone, but he merely shrugged it off and said, "I only came here to tell you that there are hundreds of owls flocking here to you and I finally figured out what happened to Umbridge."

Albus looked up grimly, he had forgotten about her. "And…?"

"Apparently, she's been taken hostage by the centaurs," he shrugged as if telling him that she went shopping.

Albus sighed again. "And I guess I have to go and get her out of the forest?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"You're the only one who would be safe enough to do so," Severus answered grimly. "The centaurs seem pretty angry. I don't know what that toad had been saying to them, but they're all looking to kill. Not that I care what happens to her… but I pity the centaurs for having to put up with her."

"I see," Albus answered as he pushed himself up, his legs stiff, and feeling more tired than he had been in years. "I'll go and retrieve her then. It would be bad for them if anything happened to her. I'll address the issues from the Ministry after I get her."

He then left the office with Severus, still grimly wondering if he could take out some of this pain inside him by letting the centaurs have Umbridge… then again, he wouldn't want them to get into trouble with the Ministry for something like her.

***Later***

Albus slowly went down the stairs and passed the students, who were gossiping about the newspaper… undoubtedly talking about everything that happened at the Ministry last night. As soon as they saw him, they gasped and quickly began talking to their friends that the Headmaster was back. He didn't pay much attention to anything around him—he simply left the castle and strode across the green grass, the soft breeze and warm sunlight shining seemed to mock how he was feeling.

Alone, he walked straight into the Forbidden Forest, thankful for a chance to get out of his head and do something… even if it meant saving such an evil woman. As much as he would have loved to leave Umbridge to them, he had to keep reminding himself that now wasn't the chance to be focusing on revenge. He really didn't need to give the Ministry another finger to point at him for their mistakes.

He walked through the trees, noting how quiet they seemed at this time. He followed the deeper trees into the forest and eventually came onto a clearing where he saw Umbridge huddled by a tree shivering and scared but seemingly unharmed in her horrid pink robes. She seemed to be alone.

As soon as he took a step towards her however, he immediately heard the sound of hooves approaching, he stopped and cocked his head. A shadowy shape appeared on the path in front of him – a horses' body with a man's torso. He stepped forward, and at once the dark form of Bane appeared from the shadows… glaring at him and stomping his hooves in rage.

"Good afternoon, Bane," he responded respectfully. The other centaurs behind Bane all came from the shade of the trees as well and observed him as one would when something interesting was on display. Bane on the other hand glared fiercely at him—as if daring him to make the wrong move.

"What are you doing here, human?" Bane snarled at him.

"Bane I did not come here for a fight, as you obviously seem ready for," Albus responded politely and quietly, "I merely came to bring High Inquisitor Umbridge out of your forest before anyone gets hurt."

"You will not, human. She is to be punished for what she dared to do," Bane responded, pawing the ground in an irritated way. "She dared to threaten us with her wand. And that's not counting the horrid insults she used!"

Albus nodded and said, "Yes, I am sure she did. But if you don't mind, I will take her back. I assure you that she won't be able to insult you any longer."

"And let her escape punishment?" Ronan asked, coming from behind Bane.

"She is from the Ministry, Ronan," Albus replied, his voice light and friendly, knowing that arguing with them would only make things worse. He had to calmly explain that letting her go was in their better interest…

"Believe me, I dislike her as much as all of you do," he informed them truthfully. "She has done nothing but torture my students all year. I would have no problem leaving her here after all the trouble that she put us through since she arrived; but I'm afraid that it would cause you all problems. The paperwork alone would be a nightmare and I'm afraid that I don't have as much power over the Ministry as I used to so I cannot guarantee that they leave you alone should anything happen to her."

They all looked at him coldly before they moved back, away from him. But he could see that they were all silently thinking it over. He could tell that they wanted to punish her for what she had done and he wished he could allow that. But he also knew that they knew of all the problems it would cause for them later on.

Besides, the centaurs are not cruel or evil beings. This he knew… they preferred to be left alone and to their own devices… despite what some like Umbridge would think… they were gentle and deep beings with a distain for needless violence. But with how they had been treated by humans in the past… he could not blame them for their frustration.

He waited there patiently as they quietly talked among themselves. After a few minutes, they looked back to him and slowly back away.

"Very well," Ronan said deeply. "But sure she ever enter here again… the stars foretell that she will be a problem for everyone later on."

"I pray not," Albus answered with a polite bow. "But I swear, as long as I am alive, she will not set foot in here again. Thank you all for your kindness."

They turned and left him—Bane staying a fragment of a second longer as he gave him a sharp look—before he left with a swish of his tail. He waited until he was sure that they had left them, before he walked over and pulled her up, none-too-harshly. He then forced her to walk with him; and without another look back, they went through the forest and out into the bright sunlight.

"H-h-halfbreeds," she croaked out. "Handled b-by such b-b-beasts! And you had some nerve to c-come back here! Y-you will be arrested a-at once!"

"Those halfbreeds spared you," Albus said coldly, refusing to look at her. "All because you insulted them in the first place. And as for my so-called arrest, I've just been pardoned."

"Preposterous!" she cried out.

"You will soon see," he answered harshly. "You will recover in the Hospital Wing after that, you will leave. You are no longer High Inquisitor… your decrees have been removed… and yes, you are fired."

She glared at him, was now almost choking but didn't dare say anything else. And even if she did, he ignored her as he brought her up to the castle.

He came straight up to the hospital and was relieved to see that the other five students were there as well. Neville's nose and Ginny's ankle had already been healed, Luna was sitting up in bed with a bandage around her head; and Ron and Hermione were both fast asleep. He left her in Madam Pomfrey's care, making sure to leave before Harry arrived to see his friends.

For the next few days, he was swamped with so much paperwork from the Ministry that he hardly had time for anything else. He kept getting letters asking for information, wondering what they should do, and who they should be suspecting… while the press continued to run around, simply loving the fact that a group of children and some Death Eaters were battling it out right under the Minister's nose. The Ministry was in shambles.

But if they had taken care of this months ago like they should have done, then they wouldn't be in this mess though, now would they?

Already, the wizarding world was screaming for Fudge's to step down and Albus couldn't blame them one bit. He had done nothing less than betrayed them all for his only ambitions and lust for power. But the most insulting thing he had heard so far was Fudge sending letters, requesting a meeting with Harry.

Albus was so angry that he threw them into the fire. How low were they going to sink? After all they put that boy through this last year, they had a great deal of nerve begging for help. Not that he was one to complain…

He sighed as he wrote back, downright refusing any future meetings. He had a strong urge to add in, _'I told you so'_ as a p.s. but thought better than that. No, Fudge had made his choice months ago and now has to live with the consequences of those actions.

He ignored Fudge's pleas as he focused more with the Auror department, giving them advice and information as they finally started to take action.

This continued for the next week until late one afternoon when he was staring out at the grounds, having just destroyed another letter from Fudge as he watched the setting sun. As he watched at the green grass swaying like waves on the ocean, he spotted a familiar figure quickly walking around the lake.

'_Harry,'_ he thought as the black-haired boy quickly walked pass all the students that were littered across the grounds without stopping.

As he watched, he could see that they all turned back to whatever it was they had been doing in disappointment. He didn't need his portraits keeping an eye on him to know that Harry had been avoiding people a lot this last week. Then again, that is to be expected…

Albus sighed as he leaned his head against the window and watched him walk along the edge of the lake until he reached a somewhat hidden spot among the trees near the water's edge. The boy still sat there, looking out at the water…

He just sat there, even long after the sun had set and the other students had gone in for dinner. As he watched him, Albus wondered if he should go down and talk to him… he couldn't stand to see him in so much pain like this. But he had a feeling that his presence would only worsen everything.

It wasn't until it was nearing curfew did he see that he was finally getting up and striding back to the castle. But the sadness lingered. He knew that he should have come out and told him everything long ago… he knew that he had no one but himself to blame for that. And he _hated_ himself for it.

***Leaving feast***

On the last night of the school year he gave his speech at the leaving feast—and he did his best to give words of comfort and hope to the students before he sat down. But as he took his seat, his eyes couldn't help but go to the Gryffindor table and see that there was someone missing. Ron and Hermione were both sitting on either side of an empty chair—both of which were looking upset.

He turned his attention back to Minerva, who was back where she belonged, and looked more cheerful than he had seen all year. Her attitude seemed to have changed completely since her return from St. Mungo's and Umbridge's departure the night before. Not that he blamed her; it was a wonderful sight seeing her flee from the castle as Peeves went chasing after her with the walking stick. And if he knew Minerva as well as he thought he did, then he knew that she only regretted the fact that she couldn't chase after her.

It was a relief to see that she was in much better health these days, but moving was still very painful for her. However, she was optimistic that she would be back to normal before the start of next year—which he was strongly hoping for. Hogwarts needed her now more than ever…

Sitting down to a parting meal in the school… it was easy to forget about how dangerous the outside world was at the moment. Right now, there were Death Eaters in Azkaban, Fudge has lost all his support and it seemed unlikely that he'll be in charge for much longer, and the whole world now knew the truth.

So why did everything still seem to be so dark?

"Albus?" as a familiar voice next to him.

"Hmm?" he asked, looking around at Minerva. "Oh, it's nothing."

She frowned, clearly saying that she didn't believe him. "Ok, now I _know_ you're lying to me."

He smiled sadly. "I know… I've just been having so much trouble with the Ministry… I must have gotten at least a dozen letters in the last hour alone."

She gave him a sympathetic look. "I know," she sighed. "Now that they have to admit it that he's back, they're acting like _they're_ the victims. If they had the brains to admit this out a year ago, we could have avoided all this."

"Yes," Albus agreed, as he looked up at the dark sky through the enchanted ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"Just a lot of stuff," he admitted. "Words… thoughts… and feelings… all of which are as confusing as the next."

"We've all done a bit of that lately, haven't we?" she asked grimly.

He chuckled bitterly before he sighed again. "I fear that now there is no longer any point in staying low, Voldemort will make his move.

"But we still have a head's start," she said hopefully.

"Yes, but we are still in for a long and brutal haul," he answered before he glanced at her worriedly. "I hope that you recover quickly, Minerva. And not just because we're friends."

She gave him a brave smile and answered firmly, "It will take more than Umbridge toad to finish me off."

***A Week later***

Albus looked down the short, neglected path cautiously. Ever since school ended a week ago, he had been looking for more places where Horcruxes might be. He knew that some of the Auror's have been keeping a close watch on him—trying to figure out where he had been going lately, but good luck trying to find him.

He didn't dare go back to Little Hangleton with the Auror's watching his every move. But today, he was confident that he had given them all the slip. Trudging down the weathered trail that he remembered viewing from Bob Ogden's memories he was certain that he was going the right way. He knew that it was a long shot, but if there was a chance… then a Horcrux just might be here.

And if there was one here… then it could be the ring…

It had to be.

So here he was, just moment ago he had Apparated into the small town in the middle of the country and continued on his way. But before he went to where the Gaunts House was he decided to make a couple quick stops.

He was now standing in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to the right. A hill rose above him on his left side and he could just make out the outline of the fine old house on the hillside…

So this was it…

The graveyard looked be worn and in disarray; obviously been neglected as of late. He wandered around the graves for a few long minutes… looking for the right one…

It was a full ten minutes before he discovered it. Wondering pass a stone angel with a broken wing, he crouched down low so that he could read the name:

TOM RIDDLE

So this was the place…

He placed his fingers on the ground before the grave, examining it closely. The dirt had been disturbed some time ago, but he could still make out the traces of something bursting from the ground. He glanced up at the withered tombstone and spotted that there were some tiny drops that looked slightly redder than the white…

'_Harry…'_ he thought as his fingertips touched the spots, knowing that they were what was left of blood. So this was it. He stood up and glanced around. Yes, he could still just make out the traces of magic… the scent of Dark Magic. Something truly evil was born in this place… or perhaps re-born.

He glanced down at the grave once again and wondered just what it would have been like for that man. To have been killed by your own son…? He wondered what Tom would have been like if he had a father and a mother with him instead of growing up in a orphanage. There were just so many _'what if's'_ out there that he wasn't so sure on anything anymore.

But now wasn't the time. He shouldn't have to be thinking about what could have been anymore. What mattered was what _is_.

He turned and left the graveyard, his heart heavy. He had to try and make up for his own past sins… he had to stop Tom at whatever the cost. This one place was his only clue… it was the best lead he had and if it didn't work out he would be back to square one all over again.

He took another detour to the house where the Riddles once stood and he stepped inside the old place. It reminded him of the Shrieking Shack back at Hogsmeade as it had fallen into disrepair. Again, he could feel it…

Like electricity in the air—there were traces of more Dark Magic. Just what could have gone on here?

The Gaunt's house was further away from the town; but he hurried along the winding road as twilight crept across the land. But soon, his tired footsteps took him to the crumbling ruins of the shack. Despite it have been over fifty years since anyone had lived here, it looked very much like the memories he had seen it in. The hedges that shielded the shack at the end of it from view were overgrown and weedy, leafy tendrils spread across the path and broke under each step, and the air was silent. It truly looked as if no one had been here for decades—not that there was any reason now that the only ones who had lived here were all dead.

But now the house was overrun by the plantlife, the wood looked to be rotting and the roof seemed to have caved in from long ago. It was such a mess that, at first, he couldn't make out the front door. After a few minutes of searching, he had managed to locate what was left of it—noticing that remains of snakeskin hung from what was left of a rusty nail.

Closing his eyes he began muttering every countercharm he could think of to disable any protections that might keep out trespassers. Coming up with nothing but the few traces of magic; he examined the door carefully—pulling out his wand and muttering countercurses. Suddenly, he heard a faint, strange, hissing sound coming from the snake skin.

Albus knew that this was the final warning. As soon as he step inside the house—he could forget about any sympathy. Gritting his teeth, he took hold of his wand and caused the door to crash open with a loud BANG!

Breathing hard, he took a daring step inside over the threshold and stared around the house. He had expected some kind of curse to activate as soon as he came inside, but so far there wasn't anything. Dust covered the floor and all of the shattered furniture inside; the walls were covered in filth as the feeble rays of remaining light from the broken ceiling.

He stepped around the fallen beams, and over the smashed pottery that were lying across the floor. After crossing through the space he went over to the door that led to the next room, he saw that it was a bedroom. An ancient bed with rags for blankets and mold for pillows was what was waiting for him. Holding his breath at the disgusting smell, he searched around, trying to feel the traces of magic.

He felt like a bloodhound, trying to track down just one smell in a room that was filled with people. He got down on his knees and felt the worn-out floorboards, moving his hand over the rotting wood, trying to will himself into feeling something…

And then he did…

It was very faint, but he could feel the slight trace of something dark. Almost as if he put his hand to a hot stove for a fraction of a second, he felt the heat from underneath the floor in that bedroom. Jerking his hand away at once, he checked his fingers to see if the skin was still there before he looked back to the floor.

It was here…

Raising his wand again, he pointed it to the floor and cast out, "Diffindo…"

With a horrible crashing sound the floorboards burst apart and a black smoke began to billow out. Yes, if he had touched the spot directly over the Horcrux, he was sure that he would have been severely burned.

Feeling the heat below him as if he was above an inferno, sweat began to pour down his face as the suffocating smoke began to fill the room. Raising his wand, he caused the smog to drift away from him and used all the countercharms he could think of to remove the spells. After about fifteen minutes of hard work and concentration, the smoke died out and the heat slowly lessoned.

Breathing hard, drenched in sweat, he slowly approached the hole in the floor. Looking down he could see it…

There it was; the ring that had been passed down through generations—the ring that held the black stone bearing the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. The Resurrection Stone.

Breathing harder than ever, he stared at the stone as if transfixed. All thoughts to the reason he came here in the first place were erased from his mind as he stared—not even noticing the red-hot metal of the golden ring.

Without thinking about what he was doing—simply acting on impulse—he reached down and took hold of the ring and placed it onto his finger. For that brief moment he truly believed that he would get his one dearest wish. That he would see his dear little sister and his parents again. Just once more… once so that he could tell them how sorry he was… how he longed for forgiveness…

But it wasn't until after he saw the ring on his hand did he realize what he had done and what a fool he had been.

For as soon as he put the ring on his finger, it immediately shrank back, constricting his finger, and all the while Albus could feel long-suppressed memories being brought to the surface. Pain came to him; feeling as if his hand had been dipped into hot, molten iron he began to scream as memories from his youth came flooding back to him.

Images of his frail sister staring out the window and the bright blue sky… her face constricted in misery to being trapped inside the house at all times… his brother shouting at him with Grindelwald growing angrier by the second… the sight of those dead, blue eyes staring at him as Aberforth held her broken body.

A voice echoed from the Stone, a voice at once was familiar to him. "_I have seen your heart, and it is mine._"

Albus suddenly felt as if he was unable to breath. Ariana's voice was inside his head and she was crying… _"Al… why? Why didn't you help me? You couldn't protect me…"_

"Stop…" Albus croaked out, gripping his head tears of pain and anguish falling from his face as his hand continued to burn…

"_Are you happy now?"_ Aberforth's voice screamed out, loud and clear. _"She's dead! DEAD YOU HEAR ME? AND IT'S YOUR FAULT!"_

"No…" Albus cried out, "That's not true… I didn't…"

"_You got what you wanted didn't you?" _Aberforth yelled. _"You're free from us! She's gone and it's all your fault! YOU KILLED HER!"_

Albus was on his knees as he cried from guilt. "THAT'S NOT TRUE! THAT CAN'T BE TRUE! I DIDN'T… I COULDN'T…"

Was this a nightmare? Was it hell? The pain was so great that he couldn't think straight… he forced his eyes open and his glasses were gone. His vision was blurred and was darkening… he could feel his strength leaving him…

His siblings screams still in his ears, he looked to his hand to where the pain was coming from and was dimly aware of the ring that now rested on a hand that he didn't recognize. His ring finger on his right hand was turning black and it was creeping up to the rest of his fingers…

Gritting his teeth, he forced his body up to his feet and stumbled from the room. He had to get out of here. The thick cloud that covered his mind cleared slightly as he reached the next room and he knew that what happened to him didn't matter anymore. He didn't care if it used all the energy to rid himself of this ring, he didn't care if he died… all that matter was that he at least kill this part of Voldemort's soul. He had to do this…

He could still move—he could still fight… he wasn't going to die here if he could help it. Feeling as if a great weight was attached to his finger, Albus stumbled through the shack, gripping hold of his arm as the pain continued to burn. By some miracle he managed to find his way through the house and back outside… he ran from the house to the road and called to Fawkes, asking him to come.

"Fawkes…" he croaked out and the scarlet and golden bird appeared in a ball of fire. Fawkes screeched in fear as he saw his master, back on his knees, struggling to breathe. He could feel his heart racing, and on his finger he felt a separate, inhuman heartbeat and hearing screaming around him. Albus merely reached up with his uninjured hand and gripped his tail feathers—disappearing in the fire.

He hit the floor of his office, not realizing that the screaming was coming from him. His portraits all awoken with shouts of fear and panic, but he wasn't aware of anything that was happening around him. Breathing now painful, he looked up—his vision going dark as he struggled to find it…

There… a flash of ruby… the Sword of Godric Gryffindor…

Seeing the sword, his head cleared a little more. Gasping for air, he got back to his feet and threw himself upon the glass case and forced it open as he reached in and took the sword with trembling hands. He closed his left hand over the hilt, and raised the blade over his hand… seeing death spreading from the tips of his other fingers. He raised the sword above the Stone and swung it down.

He swung the sword, cracking the Stone down the middle, and a horrible wail of pain came from behind him. The voices of his brother and sister inside his head had vanished with screams as the smoking ring cracked and expanded and the ring released his hand.

Shaking from head to foot, he looked to Fawkes, and croaked out, "Severus… Get… him."

As Fawkes disappeared, he glanced down to his hand, which was now mangled and disfigured… the skin looking burned as the blood-like substance was dripping from the ring and coated his hand… the deadness spreading… with the last of his energy he stumbled to his desk and collapsed in his chair.

Dropping the sword, he used his good hand to wrench the ring off his finger—but knew that it was now too late. Throwing it aside, he fell back against his chair, the pain now growing up his wrist and spreading to his arm.

Shaking his head at his own stupidity, he collapsed and fell into dark dreams.

***Later***

Albus couldn't remember anything…

He didn't know where he was, who he was, or what he had been doing until a few moments ago. He couldn't think straight, it was as if he had been adrift in the sea of darkness without a care in the world.

But soon he could feel pain coming from his arm and he kept his eyes tightly shut for he could see bright light shining through his eyelids. He groaned softly, not wanting to come back from this warm and safe darkness into this painful world of light. But it finally became too much to bear and he opened his eyes. Blinking in the bright light, he realized that he was back in his office and was in his chair with a familiar figure beside him.

Breathing hard he looked to see that Severus was waving his wand around the blacken object that—until a while ago—had been a perfectly working hand. "Severus?" he croaked out softly.

"Headmaster," Severus whispered, looking paler than usual.

Albus was still having trouble breathing as he watched Severus mumble a quiet spell, red sparks went from his wand and landed on his burned appendage that was dangling over the arm of his chair. Then Severus picked up a goblet full of a thick golden potion and helped to tip the liquid down his throat. At once, the hot substance filled his insides as if he had just sunk into a warm bath and the terrible pain had lessened to a dull ache.

"Thank you Severus," he said quietly as Severus removed the goblet from his mouth—but he wasn't sure if he heard him.

"Why," Severus hissed at him as if they had been in the middle of an argument, "why did you put on that ring? It carries a curse, surely you realized that. Why even touch it?"

Albus looked to the ring and sword that still lay in front of him before he grimaced, his memories to what happened coming back to him. "I… was a fool," he answered honestly, "Sorely tempted…"

Severus stared at him incredulously. "Tempted by what?"

Albus couldn't bring himself to answer. Too ashamed to admit it—unable to tell anyone the weight of guilt that he had carried around for years.

"It is a miracle you managed to return here!" Severus went on, now sounding like an angry parent whose teenager had been out too late. "That ring carried a curse of extraordinary power, to contain it is all we can hope for; I have trapped the curse in one hand for the time being – "

Albus had a feeling that would be the case. Not in the mood to hear him criticize him, he merely raised his now dead hand and examined it with interest—as if it was a very clever experiment. He then sighed and asked how much time he had left.

Severus hesitated, as if he didn't want to answer him. But soon told him that he had at least a year at most…

That didn't surprise him. He knew that it would be something like that since the moment after he placed that cursed hand on him. "I am fortunate, extremely fortunate, that I have you, Severus," he answered sincerely.

"If you had only summoned me a little earlier, I might have been able to do more, buy you more time!" said Severus furiously. He looked down at the broken ring and the sword before glaring up at him and demanding, "Did you think that breaking the ring would break the curse?"

Albus hesitated for a second before he answered, "Something like that… I was delirious, no doubt…" He knew that it was a terrible excuse, but it was all that he could think of at the moment. With an effort he straightened himself in his chair. "Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward."

Severus looked utterly perplexed as Albus gave him a small smile and explained, "I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me."

Severus blinked in surprise before he sighed and took the seat across from him. Albus followed his gaze back to his cursed hand and knew that he wanted to continue talking about it. But this was no longer important. He merely held up his good hand to let him know that now wasn't the best time.

Scowling, Severus said, "The Dark Lord does not expect Draco to succeed. This is merely punishment for Lucius's recent failures. Slow torture for Draco's parents, while they watch him fail and pay the price."

Yes, Severus had mentioned this mere days ago. Tom was furious for the failure to retrieve the prophecy and for the rest of the Ministry discovering that he was back. He wasn't surprised by Tom's anger… and like any small child, he does his best to make sure that everyone is just as miserable as he was. But to take it out on a child? A child who still doesn't have the slightest clue as to how the world is?

"In short, the boy has had a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I have," Albus asked him calmly, "Now, I should have thought the natural successor to the job, once Draco fails, is yourself?"

Severus looked uneasy, as if he rather do anything at the moment then answer him—but nonetheless did so anyway. "That, I think, is the Dark Lord's plan."

Yes, since he can't punish Lucius at the moment, he's taking his anger out on his son. But he knows full well that Draco wouldn't be able to do so, and instead plans for Severus to do so instead. "Lord Voldemort foresees a moment in the near future when he will not need a spy at Hogwarts?" Albus asked.

Severus nodded and told him how Voldemort believes that the school would be his in the near future.

"And if it does fall into his grasp," Albus asked him at once, his weak voice already sounding a little stronger, "I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students at Hogwarts?"

Severus gave a stiff nod.

"Good," he said in relief. Whatever else he may say, he knew that Severus wouldn't let harm come to the children. "Now then. Your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. A frightened teenage boy is a danger to others as well as to himself." He knew that a lot of people could end up getting hurt this upcoming year, and they had to make every effort to prevent it. "Offer him help and guidance, he ought to accept, he likes you – "

" – much less since his father has lost favor," Severus interrupted darkly. "Draco blames me, he thinks I have usurped Lucius's position."

Albus raised his eyebrows. Yes, Draco would try to find a scapegoat to pin the blame on even though Severus wasn't responsible for this. Lucius had long since lost favor with Voldemort ever since he discovered that the diary that he entrusted to him had been destroyed. But that is neither here nor there. "All the same, try," he pleaded with him. "I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of whatever schemes might occur to the boy. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done if we are to save him from Lord Voldemort's wrath."

Severus raised his eyebrows and his tone was sardonic as he asked, "Are you intending to let him kill you?"

"Certainly not," he said slowly, knowing that what he was about to say, he would not take well. "_You_ must kill me."

There was a long silence, broken only Fawkes gnawing on his dinner of cuttlebone.

A muscle was going in Severus's forehead as he asked, his voice thick with sarcasm, "Would you like me to do it now? Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?"

"Oh, not quite yet," he answered, smiling at Severus's dark humor. "I daresay the moment will present itself in due course. Given what has happened tonight," he held up his destroyed hand before he finished, "we can be sure that it will happen within a year."

"If you don't mind dying," Severus asked him roughly, "why not let Draco do it?"

Albus gave him a sad look—both of them thinking the same thing. "That boy's soul is not yet so damaged. I would not have it ripped apart on my account."

But now Severus was looking angry at him. "And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?" he demanded harshly.

"You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation," he told him as Severus stopped his rant. "I ask this one great favor of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year's league."

He then went on how he would prefer a quick and painless death at his hands, than at someone like Greyback or Bellatrix do it. At last Severus finally nodded—looking as if this was going against everything he ever believed in.

"Thank you, Severus…" Albus said, his voice full of gratitude.

Severus gave him one more sharp look before he turned and left with a swish of his cloak. "I will see you tomorrow to check that hand," he added as he reached the door. "There is not much else I can do about it now."

Albus nodded and gave him another quiet 'thank you' as he watched Severus leave.

"Dumbledore you can't honestly mean that can you?" Dilys asked almost as soon as the door shut behind the Potions Master. "You can't really think that you're…?"

"I'm afraid that this is my own fault, Dilys," he answered grimly.

"What happened?" Dexter demanded. "You just showed up screaming something awful. What the hell is that ring?"

"A former dark object," Albus told him. "Listen…" he added when all the other portraits began to argue at once. "I am tired… I cannot tell you all now… let us leave it for morning at least?"

Perhaps they were so shocked by his sudden appearance that they didn't dare disagree, even stubborn Phineas kept his mouth shut as Albus reached into his desk for some parchment and a enchanted quill.

So he had about a year left before he finally died; only one more year of pain, suffering, and confusion to go through before he would be allowed to rest. To be honest, he wasn't afraid… a part of him was actually looking forward to it. He knew that he was to die someday, and he was long since prepared for it.

He had one year left to finish everything he had to before he would be free of this world. A year wasn't much time, but it would have to do… he had to plan on what was to come and hope for the best. He knew that this war would never end before his death came so he would have to plan for everything.

Setting the quill onto the parchment he quietly told it what to write as he slowly got up from the chair. Ignoring what the other portraits were saying, he finished his letter and decided to send it the first thing in the morning.

_Dear Harry, _

_If it is convenient to you, I shall call at number four, Privet Drive_ _this coming Friday at eleven p. escort you to the Burrow, where you have been invited to spend the remainder of your school holidays. If you are agreeable, I should also be glad of your assistance in a matter to which I hope to attend on the way to the Burrow. I shall explain this more fully when I see you. _

_Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to see you this Friday, _

_I am yours most sincerely, _

_Albus Dumbledore _

***A couple days later***

It had been several days since his desperate struggle for his own survival and Albus was still paying for it. His right hand was now almost completely useless… just picking something up and holding it felt like holding onto thousands of hot needles.

Severus had done well on his word and had given him several potions to keep the pain under control. But he made it very clear that while it will help him from feeling the pain, it wasn't going to prevent the curse from getting worse.

It was just after ten that night when he had forced himself to swallow one of the sickening potions, relishing in the way it made his hand almost numb. As he set the empty goblet down on his desk, he glanced over at the two articles that he had been reading until a few minutes ago.

_HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE?_

And…

_SCRIMGEOUR SUCCEEDS FUDGE_

_The new minister was confirmed last night as none other than Rufus Scrimgeour. There was a wide range of speculation about this previous head of the Auror department. He has proven to all who hadn't supported him, how he seems to be the best man for the job. There is a circulating rumor going round that Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was offered the position first but had refused._

_We, at the Daily Prophet, were granted an interview with the new minister. He was more than willing to answer our questions, quite different from how Cornelius Fudge had handled everything. Does this minister have what it takes to lead us through such troubled times? We can only hope._

Most of this front page was taken up with a large black-and-white picture of a man with a lion-like mane of thick hair and a rather ravaged face. Albus shook his head; remembering the talk he had with Rufus last night. Really, it was quite galling to be demanded to arrange an audience with 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' or as everyone is calling him these days… 'The Chosen One.'

He glanced at his watch and decided that it was time to leave. As he left his office, following the familiar hallways that were usually filled with the sounds of lessons and children laughing and talking with their friends… he couldn't help but feel sad at how lifeless the castle seemed to be… especially these days…

He couldn't help but wonder just how Harry had been holding up these last few weeks. The new minister was going to try to use Harry and Albus knew he could not allow it. Harry's faith in him had been pretty much destroyed and he wanted to rebuild it back up…

But with his time now running out…?

He sighed, knowing that Harry must still be angry with him. But hopefully, this time to himself had calmed him down and he'd be more willing to talk. By the time that he reached the grounds, it was already fifteen to eleven. He passed underneath the cover of darkness, wondering just how many more times he would be able to take walk in peace.

He reached the Hogwarts gates just as it was thirty seconds before it chimed eleven and he disapperated to Number four right on the dot. He opened his eyes and stared at the dark, plain streets…

Looking around he realized just how nostalgic it was… not much has changed in those years. Well… he glanced up to number four and reminded himself that people have changed a great deal since then.

He cautiously made his way up the walkway and knocked at the door. Almost at once he could hear muffled yells from inside before it opened to reveal a red-faced and ill-tempered man in a puce dressing gown who could only be Vernon Dursley. As soon as he saw him, he stopped dead in his tracks and his tiny eyes widened as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Good evening," Albus said politely. "You must be Mr. Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you I would be coming for him?"

Vernon stared, as if he forgot how to speak and Albus knew that this wasn't so.

"Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did not warn you that I was coming," he answered back pleasantly, trying hard not to laugh. "However, let us assume that you have invited me warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on doorsteps in these troubled times."

And without waiting for an answer, he simply stepped into the house and closed the door with a snap behind him.

"It is a long time since my last visit," he said politely, trying for small talk. "I must say, your agapanthus are flourishing."

Vernon Dursley said nothing at all as he continued gapping like a fish—but Albus had a feeling that speech would return to him sooner or later. Just then, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw something move on the stairs and looked up in time to see that a familiar figure was there.

"Ah, good evening Harry," he said, truly glad to see him. "Excellent, excellent."

Harry was looking almost ghostly under his shock of black hair, and he seemed to look thinner than usual… grimmer… but that was to be expected. He knew that these last few weeks couldn't have been easy for him.

"I don't mean to be rude —" Vernon Dursley interrupting his thoughts.

"— yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often," Albus then finished for him gravely, silently letting him know that he wasn't the kind of man who couldn't be bullied or told what to do easily. "Best to say nothing at all, my dear man."

Just then another door opened and a thin woman wearing rubber gloves and a housecoat over a pink nightdress had entered, obviously wondering what the noise was about. "Ah, and this must be Petunia."

As soon as she saw him, she stopped dead in her tracks, like her husband, as she stared at him in shock. So this was Lily's older sister…

"Albus Dumbledore," he said when no one spoke and thought that it would be best to introduce himself."We have corresponded, of course. And this must be your son, Dudley?"

A chubby, young man had peered around a door that must've led to the living room. He could see the family resemblance as he too stared at him in astonishment and fear. Albus waited politely, waiting to see whether anyone else was going to say something—but as the silence stretched on—he smiled and asked, "Shall we assume that you have invited me into your sitting room?"

It was clear from the looks on the Dursley's faces that it never would have happened in a million years; but he didn't care. He walked passed them all as he wandered passed Dudley and into the living room. Harry, carrying telescope and a pair of trainers, jumped the last few stairs and followed right behind him

"Aren't — aren't we leaving, sir?" Harry asked anxiously as he settled himself in the armchair nearest the fire. He noticed that Harry's tone seemed to be very tense; as if uncomfortable around him.

"Yes, indeed we are, but there are a few matters we need to discuss first," Albus answered graciously. "And I would prefer not to do so in the open. We shall trespass upon your aunt and uncle's hospitality only a little longer."

"You will, will you?" Vernon Dursley demanded with his wife and son behind them.

"Yes," Albus answered with a finality in this voice that they couldn't hope to ignore; it was about time that someone gave them a taste of their own medicine. "I shall."

He decided to have a little fun, and he drew his wand and with a casual flick, the sofa zoomed forward and knocked the knees out from under all three of the Dursleys so that they collapsed upon it in a heap.

"We may as well be comfortable," he answered pleasantly as he caused the sofa to return to its spot against the wall. But as he put his wand away, he spotted Harry staring at his hand.

"Sir — what happened to your —?" Harry began cautiously.

"Later, Harry," he interrupted him, momentarily forgetting how observant Harry was. "Please sit down." Harry looked like he wanted to argue, but seemed to decide against it as he took the remaining armchair, refusing to look at his relatives as he waited.

"I would assume that you were going to offer me refreshment," Albus said to Vernon, knowing that he was thinking of no such thing, "but the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of foolishness."

So he decided to show off a little more magic, and hopefully make everyone feel a little more comfortable, he conjured up a bottle of oak-matured mead and passed some around for everyone.

"Madam Rosmerta's finest oak-matured mead," he answered Harry's questioning look and raised his glass to him. Predictably, the Dursleys refused to touch their glasses and they were now trying to persuade them into do so. He had to fight hard to keep himself from chuckling as the glasses were becoming more and more persistent.

Once he had finished his glass, he took a deep breath and finally turned back to Harry. "Well, Harry, a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us, I mean the Order of the Phoenix. But first of all I must tell you that Sirius' will was discovered a week ago, and that he left you everything he owned."

At the mention of Sirius's name, Harry seemed to freeze up, but all he said was, "Oh. Right…" in a tone that was clear to him that he still hadn't recovered from the fight at the Ministry.

"This is, in the main, fairly straightforward," Albus went on, a little more gently. "You add a reasonable amount of gold to your account at Gringotts, and you inherit all of Sirius's personal possessions." But Harry didn't seem to be the slightest bit interested in any of this—he knew that none of it was worth Sirius's life. "The slightly problematic part of the legacy —"

"His godfather's dead?" said Vernon Dursley loudly from the sofa. The two of them turned to look at him as he tried to beat his glass of mead away from him. "He's dead? His godfather?" he repeated as if he wanted to make sure that he heard them right.

"Yes," he said simply, glaring at his insensitivity towards his own nephew's feelings before he turned back to Harry and went on as if he hadn't spoken, "Our problem is that Sirius also left you number twelve, Grimmauld Place."

"He's been left a house?" said Vernon Dursley greedily.

'_Yes, but it has nothing to do with you,'_ he thought darkly, but Harry suddenly spoke, "You can keep using it as headquarters. I don't care. You can have it, I don't really want it."

He knew that he would say something like that. "That is generous," he nodded. "We have, however, vacated the building temporarily."

"Why?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Well," he went on, explaining to Harry how the house would most likely be passed onto another pureblood since Sirius and Regulus never had any children while at the same time, ignoring the mutterings of Vernon Dursley, who was now being rapped smartly over the head by the unrelenting glass of mead.

"I bet there has," Harry said absentmindedly.

"Quite," he nodded softly. "And if such an enchantment exists, then the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest of Sirius's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange."

Suddenly Harry sprang to his feet; the telescope and trainers in his lap rolled across the floor. "No," he said, for the first time, sounding furious.

"Well, obviously we would prefer that she didn't get it either," he continued on calmly. "The situation is fraught with complications. We do not know whether the enchantments we ourselves have placed upon it, for example, making it Unplottable, will hold now that ownership has passed from Sirius's hands. It might be that Bellatrix will arrive on the doorstep at any moment. Naturally we had to move out until such time as we have clarified the position."

Naturally, he had already come up with several ways to keep Bellatrix, or anyone else uninvited for that matter, from stepping inside. But he hoped that there wouldn't be any need for it.

"But how are you going to find out if I'm allowed to own it?" Harry asked him uncertainly.

"Fortunately," Albus answered him, "there is a simple test."

He placed his empty glass on a small table beside his chair, but before he could do anything else, Vernon Dursley shouted, "Will you get these ruddy things off us?"

He looked up to see all three of the Dursleys were cowering with their arms over their heads as their glasses bounced up and down on their heads, the mead now spilling everywhere.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he answered politely, and he raised his wand again and made all three glasses vanished. "But it would have been better manners to drink it, you know."

Vernon glared at him, but seemed too afraid to say anything as his eyes went to the wand—terrified that he would curse him if he said something wrong. Though Albus would never admit to it, but a part of him was secretly hoping that he would go too far and he would be forced to curse him. Mastering the nasty impulse, he looked back to Harry and went on speaking as if no one interrupted, "You see, if you have indeed inherited the house, you have also inherited-"

He flicked his wand one more and brought the reluctant house-elf here. Petunia let out a hair-raising shriek as Dudley drew his feet off the floor; not wanting to be anywhere near Kreacher while Vernon Dursley bellowed out, "What the hell is that?"

"Kreacher," he finished.

"Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't!" croaked the house-elf, stamping his long, gnarled feet and pulling his ears—unable to believe what was happening. "Kreacher belongs to Miss Bellatrix, oh yes, Kreacher belongs to the Blacks, Kreacher wants his new mistress, Kreacher won't go to the Potter brat, Kreacher won't, won't, won't —"

"As you can see, Harry," he went on loudly as Kreacher continued to yell out. "Kreacher is showing a certain reluctance to pass into your ownership."

"I don't care," said Harry again, looking with disgust at the writhing, stamping house-elf. "I don't want him."

"You would prefer him to pass into the ownership of Bellatrix Lestrange?" he asked with Kreacher screaming out the word won't over and over again. "Bearing in mind that he has lived at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix for the past year?"

Harry stared at him.

"Give him an order," Albus pressed him. "If he has passed into your ownership, he will have to obey. If not, then we shall have to think of some other means of keeping him from his rightful mistress."

"Won't, won't, won't, WON'T!"

Kreacher's voice had risen to a scream and Harry suddenly cried out, "Kreacher, shut up!"

It looked for a moment as though Kreacher was going to choke. He grabbed his throat, his mouth still working furiously, his eyes bulging. After a few seconds of frantic gulping, he threw himself face forward onto the carpet and beat the floor with his hands and feet, giving himself over to a violent, but entirely silent, tantrum.

"Well, that simplifies matters," he said happily, knowing that it was safe. "It means that Sirius knew what he was doing. You are the rightful owner of number twelve, Grimmauld Place and of Kreacher."

"Do I — do I have to keep him with me?" Harry asked, aghast, as Kreacher continued to thrash around at his feet.

"Not if you don't want to," he reassured him by letting him know that he could just as easily send Kreacher to work in the kitchens.

"Yeah," said Harry in relief, "yeah, I'll do that. Er — Kreacher — I want you to go to Hogwarts and work in the kitchens there with the other house-elves."

Kreacher, who was now lying flat on his back with his arms and legs in the air, gave Harry one upside-down look of deepest loathing and, with another loud crack, vanished. Once he was gone, they finished discussing the matters concerning Buckbeak, and how Hagrid was looking after him. Once that was cleared up and everything was settled, he asked if Harry was ready to go.

"Doubtful that I would turn up?" he asked him shrewdly when Harry looked down at the fallen telescope and trainers.

"I'll just go and — er — finish off," said Harry hastily, picking up his things and almost running from the room.

Albus sat back and hummed to himself as he stared up at the ceiling. The Dursleys were staring at him in fear, but he ignored him as he thought. He had expected Harry to be a little more colder to him than he had been… it's true that he no longer seemed comfortable around him, and he was being a little formal… but he was still polite as he always was.

Why? Was it simply because he was leaving this house and didn't care who it was who was escorting him so long as he was free? Or was it because he had begun to forgive him after everything that had happened last year?

He wasn't so sure anymore. The two of them hadn't spoken once since the morning after Sirius's death…

He wished that he knew…

About ten minutes later, he heard Harry dragging his trunk downstairs and he reentered the room.

"Professor — I'm ready now," he asked awkwardly.

"Good," Albus answered, getting up and holding his wand. "Just one last thing, then." And he turned to speak to the Dursleys once more. "As you will no doubt be aware, Harry comes of age in a year's time —"

"No," said Petunia, speaking for the first time.

"I'm sorry?" he asked civilly.

"No, he doesn't," she said at once. "He's a month younger than Dudley, and Dudders doesn't turn eighteen until the year after next."

"Ah," he said, a little surprise that she didn't already know this, "but in the Wizarding world, we come of age at seventeen."

He heard Vernon Dursely mutter under his breath, "Preposterous," but Albus overlooked him. Honestly, he could care less what he had to say. "Now, as you already know, the wizard called Lord Voldemort has returned to this country. The Wizarding community is currently in a state of open warfare. Harry, whom Lord Voldemort has already attempted to kill on a number of occasions, is in even greater danger now than the day when I left him upon your doorstep fifteen years ago, with a letter explaining about his parents' murder and expressing the hope that you would care for him as though he were your own."

He paused here, and although his voice remained light and calm, and he gave no obvious sign of anger, he couldn't stop the anger coming through and he was pleased to see how scared they look. How any of them were able to look at themselves in the mirror was beyond him… he still couldn't bring himself to do so after all…

"You did not do as I asked," he said, rather mechanically. "You have never treated Harry as a son. He has known nothing but neglect and often cruelty at your hands." He stopped there for a moment, his heart heavy with guilt, "The best that can be said is that he has at least escaped the appalling damage you have inflicted upon the unfortunate boy sitting between you."

Though that was a small comfort compared to all the pain that he had been put through because of it.Both of the Dursleys however looked around instinctively at their son… while they were terrible excuses for parents, they did love their son. But he couldn't think of anything sadder… they didn't even realize just what they had done to Dudley. He couldn't bring himself to blame the young man for what he was. Though he couldn't help but feel angry at the Dursleys for how they chose to raise him.

"Us — mistreat Dudders? What d'you —?"Vernon cried out furiously, but Albus merely raised a finger for silence.

"The magic I evoked fifteen years ago means that Harry has powerful protection while he can still call this house 'home.' However miserable he has been here, however unwelcome, however badly treated, you have at least, grudgingly, allowed him houseroom," he stopped for a brief second but grew even angrier when Vernon showed no signs of remorse.

"This magic will cease to operate the moment that Harry turns seventeen; in other words, at the moment he becomes a man. I ask only this: that you allow Harry to return, once more, to this house, before his seventeenth birthday, which will ensure that the protection continues until that time," he finished. None of the Dursleys said anything. Dudley was frowning slightly, clearing thinking about his words.

Albus shook his head sadly; hoping that Dudley hadn't gone too far that there was no hope for him.

"Well, Harry…" he said at last, turning back to Harry. "Time for us to be off." He straightened his cloak and added to the Dursleys, "Until we meet again…" though he knew that moment would never come in this life.

"Bye," said Harry hastily to the Dursleys, and followed after him, who paused beside Harry's trunk in the hallway, upon which Hedwig's cage was perched. The white owl glared up at him in annoyance, as if angry that he had disturbed her.

"We do not want to be encumbered by these just now," he said, pulling out his wand again, ready to send it ahead of them to the Burrow. "I shall send them to the Burrow to await us there. However, I would like you to bring your Invisibility Cloak… just in case."

He waited patiently as Harry kept his head down and pulled out the cloak from the mess inside before he caused them to disappear. Using his wand once more to open the door, he put it away before he added to Harry, "And now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."

And he stepped outside into the cool, misty darkness; Harry close behind him. They walked down the street, abet a little awkwardly. At least it seemed to be that way for Harry—who still seemed to be very tense around him.

"Keep your wand at the ready, Harry," Albus mentioned to him, his eyes looking cautiously around him.

Harry looked up and asked hesitantly, "But I thought I'm not allowed to use magic outside school, sir?"

"If there is an attack," he informed him, "I give you permission to use any counterjinx or curse that might occur to you." He looked up again and continued to look around them vigilantly, "However, I do not think you need worry about being attacked tonight."

"Why not, sir?" he asked.

"You are with me," Albus answered simply. "This will do, Harry."

He came to an abrupt halt at the end of Privet Drive. "You have not, of course, passed your Apparition Test," he said, already knowing the answer.

"No," said Harry at once. "I thought you had to be seventeen?"

"You do," he agreed. "So you will need to hold on to my arm very tightly. My left, if you don't mind —" he added, holding up his one good arm. "As you have noticed, my wand arm is a little fragile at the moment."

Harry gripped his proffered forearm and they stepped into the suffocating darkness. Once they came out at their destination, Harry was coughing and choking next to him.

"Are you all right?" he asked kindly as Harry gasped for air. "The sensation does take some getting used to," he added. Perhaps he should have warned him…

"I'm fine," said Harry, rubbing his ears as he got his breath back, "But I think I might prefer brooms…"

He smiled, understanding the feeling all-to-well as he drew his traveling cloak a little more tightly around his neck, and said, "This way."

After a few minutes, he then asked, "So tell me, Harry… your scar … has it been hurting at all?"

Harry raised a hand unconsciously to his forehead and rubbed the lightning-shaped mark. "No," he confessed curiously, "and I've been wondering about that. I thought it would be burning all the time now Voldemort's getting so powerful again."

But Albus knew better. After what happened at the Ministry, he knew better than to try something like that again—which he was silently grateful for.

"I, on the other hand, thought otherwise," he answered and explained how Voldemort had finally realized the danger of going into his mind and how it seems that he was now using Occlumency to keep Harry out.

"Well, I'm not complaining," said Harry at once. They turned a corner, passing a telephone box and a bus shelter before Harry asked, "Professor?"

"Harry?" he responded politely.

"Er — where exactly are we?"

"This, Harry, is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton," he answered as if he was answering a question in class.

"And what are we doing here?" he continued.

"Ah yes, of course, I haven't told you," he said in amusement. "Well, I have lost count of the number of times I have said this in recent years, but we are, once again, one member of staff short. We are here to persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts."

"How can I help with that, sir?" he asked worriedly as if expecting a written exam.

"Oh, I think we'll find a use for you," he responded vaguely. "Left here, Harry."

He didn't tell Harry that just being in the room with Slughorn would be star-struck simply by being in the room. After walking a little ways Harry then asked, "Professor, why couldn't we just Apparate directly into your old colleague's house?"

"Because it would be quite as rude as kicking down the front door," he smiled. "Courtesy dictates that we offer fellow wizards the opportunity of denying us entry. In any case, most Wizarding dwellings are magically protected from unwanted Apparators. At Hogwarts, for instance —"

"— you can't Apparate anywhere inside the buildings or grounds," said Harry quickly. "Hermione Granger told me."

"And she is quite right," Albus smiled again. "We turn left again."

It wasn't until when the clock from the nearby churched chimed midnight did Harry speak again. "Sir, I saw in the _Daily Prophet_ that Fudge has been sacked. …"

"Correct," he nodded, now turning up a steep side street."He has been replaced, as I am sure you also saw, by Rufus Scrimgeour, who used to be Head of the Auror office." He made sure not to mention Fudge and his last-ditch plan to remain in power.

"Is he… Do you think he's good?" asked Harry him.

"An interesting question," Albus said softly. Yes, he had wondered that himself. Rufus was certainly a talented Auror and knew better than anyone how Dark wizards worked… yet at the same time, his leadership skills were lacking. "He is able, certainly. A more decisive and forceful personality than Cornelius."

"Yes, but I meant —" Harry began but he interrupted, "I know what you meant. Rufus is a man of action and, having fought Dark wizards for most of his working life, does not under estimate Lord Voldemort."

_*Flashback*_

_Albus had been looking over the newest leaflet that the Ministry was issuing out._

— — _ISSUED ON BEHALF OF — —_

_The Ministry of Magic_

_PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY AGAINST DARK FORCES_

_The Wizarding community is currently under threat from an organization calling itself the_ _Death Eaters. Observing the following simple security guidelines will help protect you, your family, and your home from attack;_

_1. You are advised not to leave the house alone. _

_2. Particular care should be taken during the hours of darkness. Wherever possible, arrange to complete journeys before night has fallen. _

_3. Review the security arrangements around your house, making sure that all family members are aware of emergency measures such as Shield and Disillusionment Charms, and, in the case of underage family members, Side-Along-Apparition. _

_4. Agree on security questions with close friends and family so as to detect Death Eaters masquerading as others by use of the Polyjuice Potion (see page 2). _

_5. Should you feel that a family member, colleague, friend, or neighbor is acting in a strange manner, contact the Magical Law Enforcement Squad at once. They may have been put under the Imperius Curse (see page 4). _

_6. Should the Dark Mark appear over any dwelling place or other building, DO NOT ENTER, but contact the Auror office immediately. _

_7. Unconfirmed sightings suggest that the Death Eaters may now be using Inferi (see page 10). Any sighting of an Inferius, or encounter with same, should be reported to the Ministry IMMEDIATELY. _

_He rolled his eyes. Did they really think that these would help? Most people were now too scared to leave the house these days… did they really think that they were stupid? __Albus was sitting in the Minister's office at the Ministry; it had only been a few hours since Rufus had been made Minister, but he was already demanding an audience to see him. Soon though, the door opened and the Minister himself walked into the room._

"_Good afternoon, Rufus," said Albus, as he watched Rufus limp over to his new desk and sit opposite him. Albus didn't pay him too much mind as he paced the room, looking around at everything. "So… what is it that you summoned me for?"_

_Rufus replied, "Not beating around the bush are you? I simply wish to speak with Harry Potter."_

"_And why would you ask that?" Albus asked him politely. "Cornelius had been asking me for the last two weeks and I'm afraid that my answer hasn't changed."_

"_But this is important," Rufus tried to reason. "I believe that it would help us all…"_

"_What do you mean by that?" Albus asked him with his eyebrows raised. "It sounds like you want to try and rope Harry in for something. It has to do with the Ministry doesn't it?"_

"_It's just that the papers have been going around with this 'Chosen One' story lately," Rufus explained. "They believe that he's a hero—which he is now isn't he?"_

"_What does that have to do with you wanting to meet him?" Albus demanded._

"_My point is that he's become a symbol of hope for most of the wizarding world," Rufus told him._

"_Yes, it's quite a change from what they were thinking of him last year," Albus responded coldly._

"_Well, just the idea that he might be able, or destined, to face off with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named — well, naturally, it gives more hope," he finished. "I believe that it would be of enormous comfort to the rest of the community…?"_

"_After everything that you and the Ministry put him through last year, you all have a great deal of nerve asking for his help now," Albus responded. "I told you all again and again, to leave him alone. He has nothing to do with any of this now does he?"_

"_I did nothing of the sort," Rufus barked back._

"_That doesn't change the fact that he's been through so much because of the Ministry," Albus retorted lightly. "Cornelius made sure to do his best to see to that. He's been through so much that I doubt that he'll listen to anything that you will say. I cannot do that to him."_

"_I'm sure that if you just talk to him…" Rufus tried to explain. "It's a duty for every citizen…"_

"_Duty you say?" Albus repeated. "You realize what you are asking? It's the Ministry's duty to protect the citizens, not the other way around. Harry isn't even of age yet and you want to try and take advantage of him. You expect this from a young man who you were so adamant to disbelieve until a couple weeks ago and went to all extents possible to discredit him."_

"_See here now Albus, Wouldn't it be prudent for us to work together?" Rufus asked._

"_I warned you again and again for a year what was happening, but because you all refused to listen, we are now in this situation," Albus stated._

"_But if Potter is the only person who can…" he began but Albus had enough._

"_You want to ask a sixteen year old boy for help to keep everyone believing that the Ministry is doing an amazing job," Albus said. "I know what this is all about. No one knows anything about any prophecy. There's no guarantee that Harry's can or can't fight Voldemort. Whatever this prophecy says, I'm sure that it doesn't mean that Harry should be helping out the Ministry, especially when they are wrong. Instead of forcing a teenager to help you, you should all be thinking for yourselves on what you should be doing to protect the people. He's a teenage boy, not a solider that you can use."_

"_I see that you won't change your mind?" Rufus asked coldly._

"_No, I won't," Albus responded. "But in all honesty, I think that I'm being kind. I doubt that Harry would take this as calmly as I am._

_*End of Flashback*_

It had only been a few days since then, and Rufus hadn't mentioned it since. But he knew that he wasn't going to give up that easily. He was so lost in thought that he almost forgot who was with him.

"And… sir… I saw about Madam Bones," said Harry's voice, which brought him back to the matter at hand.

"Yes," Albus said tiredly, "A terrible loss. She was a great witch." He held up his hand instinctively to point and he had to pay for it. "Just up here, I think — ouch."

A sharp pain rang through his whole arm and he had to grip hold of his wrist, breathing hard through his nose as the pain faded little-by-little.

"Professor, what happened to your — ?" Harry asked, looking at the burnt appendage.

"I have no time to explain now," Albus said at once, not wishing to go into details—suddenly feeling more ashamed than ever by his actions that night. "It is a thrilling tale, I wish to do it justice."

He smiled at Harry, letting him know that while he didn't want to talk about it, he was still allowing him to ask questions.

"Sir — I got a Ministry of Magic leaflet by owl, about security measures we should all take against the Death Eaters…" Harry said, understanding what he was saying, and changing the subject at once.

"Yes, I received one myself," Albus stated, still smiling. "Did you find it useful?"

"Not really," Harry admitted embarrassed.

"No, I thought not," Albus said good-naturedly. "You have not asked me, for instance, what is my favorite flavor of jam, to check that I am indeed Professor Dumbledore and not an impostor."

"I didn't…" Harry began, looking startled and stopped walking, as if worried he was in for a scolding.

"For future reference, Harry, it is raspberry…" he smiled gently, "although of course, if I were a Death Eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam preferences before impersonating myself."

"Er … right," said Harry, raising his eyebrows at him, and Albus wondered just what he was thinking to that. "Well, on that leaflet, it said something about Inferi," he went on. "What exactly are they? The leaflet wasn't very clear."

"They are corpses," he answered calmly and Harry's curiosity quickly turned to disgust. "Dead bodies that have been bewitched to do a Dark wizard's bidding. Inferi have not been seen for a long time, however, not since Voldemort was last powerful. He killed enough people to make an army of them, of course. This is the place, Harry, just here…"

They were nearing a small, neat stone house set in its own garden; so this was where Horace had been hiding out for the last few weeks. But as he approached the house, he stopped dead… for the front door was hanging off its hinges. "Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear," he muttered at once, his mind running away with the worse thoughts. Were they too late?

He could fee Harry peering around him to see what he was looking at, while he glanced up and down the street as he pulled his wand out—readying himself for a fight.

"Wand out and follow me, Harry," he said quietly. Without another word, he opened the gate and walked swiftly and silently up the garden path, Harry at his heels, then pushed what was left of the front door very slowly, half-expecting someone to appear from the darkness and attack.

"_Lumos._"

His wand cast its light up a narrow hallway and he followed it into the sitting room. A scene of total devastation was all he could see… a grandfather clock lay broken in pieces, its hands and pendulum lying on the other side of the room while a piano was on its side, its keys strewn across the floor. The little glass fragments of a chandelier were lying in the center of the room, clearly having fallen from a great height as broken glass and feathers from the pillows covered everything else.

Albus raised his wand even higher, so that its light was thrown upon the walls, where he could see what could only be blood on the walls. He looked back when he heard Harry's small intake of breath.

"Not pretty, is it?" he said heavily. "Yes, something horrible has happened here."

He moved carefully into the middle of the room, having a feeling that something was wrong, but unable to figure out what it was.

"Maybe there was a fight and — and they dragged him off, Professor?" Harry suggested weakly.

"I don't think so," he told him quietly, peering behind an overstuffed armchair lying on its side, suddenly having an idea. He thought that it was strange… he had gotten carried away with the first thoughts when he saw the damage, but now that he calmed down he realized that something had been missing. Meaning, that this couldn't have been a Death Eater attack… and even if it had been, he knew that Horace was able to keep himself alive.

"You mean he's — ?" Harry began.

"Still here somewhere?" he finished for him, "Yes."

And without warning, he swooped, plunging the tip of his wand into the seat of the overstuffed armchair, which yelled out, "Ouch!"

Relief flooding through him, now understanding what this was truly about, he simply said, "Good evening, Horace."

He stood back so that Horace could stand up and return to his normal form. He looked very much like he always did… bald head, big eyes, his great mustache… Horace Slughorn…

"There was no need to stick the wand in that hard," he said gruffly, glaring accusingly at him, "It hurt."

"What gave it away?" he grunted, rubbing the spot where Albus had dug his wand into his belly.

"My dear Horace," Albus said amused, and letting him know that what tipped him off was the fact that the Dark Mark wasn't above the house.

"The Dark Mark," he muttered, clapping a hand to his forehead in stupidity. "Knew there was something … ah well. Wouldn't have had time anyway, I'd only just put the finishing touches to my upholstery when you entered the room."

He heaved a great sigh as Albus offered to help clean up.

They stood back to back, with Harry watching them, and waved their wands in one identical sweeping motion, cleaning up the great mess and leaving the place spotless. "What kind of blood was that, incidentally?" Albus had to cry loudly as the grandfather clock began to chime loudly.

"On the walls? Dragon," shouted Horace over the sound of the chandelier reattaching itself to the ceiling.

"Yes, dragon," he repeated conversationally, once the noise had died down and he was looking in a small bottle that was up on a sideboard and was examining the liquid inside it. "My last bottle, and prices are sky-high at the moment. Still, it might be reusable."

He frowned at the liquid before he said in a brighter tone, "Hmm. Bit dusty."

But as soon as he set it back down, he finally noticed that Harry was in the room as well. As soon as he saw him, Horace's large eyes widened. "Oho," he said eagerly, his eyes looking towards the scar on his forehead and Harry unconsciously looked back down to the floor so that his bangs covered the mark.

"This," Albus said at once, moving forward to make the introduction, "is Harry Potter. Harry, this is an old friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn."

Horace turned to him, his expression shrewd—already guessing his intentions. "So that's how you thought you'd persuade me, is it? Well, the answer's no, Albus."

"I suppose we can have a drink, at least?" Albus asked, not the least bit surprised that Horace still didn't want to accept his old job. "For old time's sake?"

Horace hesitated. "All right then, one drink," he said ungraciously.

Albus smiled at Harry, who was looking baffled, and directed him toward the chair by the fire and the bright lamp. They just needed a little more time…

"Hmpf," Horace said after getting drinks, still looking irritated at him as he passed out the drinks and took his seat to join them.

"Well, how have you been keeping, Horace?" he asked.

"Not so well," said Horace at once. "Weak chest. Wheezy. Rheumatism too. Can't move like I used to. Well, that's to be expected. Old age. Fatigue."

"And yet you must have moved fairly quickly to prepare such a welcome for us at such short notice," Albus asked knowingly. "You can't have had more than three minutes' warning?"

Horace snorted, but there was a hint of pride in his annoyed tone, "Two. Didn't hear my Intruder Charm go off, I was taking a bath. Still," he added, as if trying to convince himself this fact as well as him, "the fact remains that I'm an old man, Albus. A tired old man who's earned the right to a quiet life and a few creature comforts."

"You're not yet as old as I am, Horace," Albus informed him, which was true—Horace was still at least a decade younger than he was.

"Well, maybe you ought to think about retirement yourself," said Horace bluntly, glancing at his injured hand, "Reactions not what they were, I see."

"You're quite right," Albus serenely, shaking back his sleeve to reveal the tips of those burned and blackened fingers, noticing Harry was staring at it as well. "I am undoubtedly slower than I was. But on the other hand…"

He shrugged and spread his hands wide, reminding himself that old age did have a lot of advantages as well. But as he stretched out his arm, no watched as they both stared at the ring. Horace's eyes lingered for a moment on the ring so that a thoughtful frown on his face. Albus wondered if Horace remembered… for he had seen this ring before.

"So, all these precautions against intruders, Horace…" he asked, trying for some small talk, "Are they for the Death Eaters' benefit, or mine?"

"What would the Death Eaters want with a poor broken-down old buffer like me?" demanded Horace, but he could detect the slight hint of uneasiness in his voice.

"I imagine that they would want you to turn your considerable talents to coercion, torture, and murder," Albus nodded thoughtfully. "Are you really telling me that they haven't come recruiting yet?"

Horace eyed him balefully for a moment, then confessed, "I haven't given them the chance. I've been on the move for a year. Never stay in one place more than a week. Move from Muggle house to Muggle house — the owners of this place are on holiday in the Canary Islands — it's been very pleasant, I'll be sorry to leave. It's quite easy once you know how, one simple Freezing Charm on these absurd burglar alarms they use instead of Sneakoscopes and make sure the neighbors don't spot you bringing in the piano."

"Ingenious," Albus chuckled. Indeed it had been quite a chore trying to track him down over the countryside—he had been one of the few people to believe the story that Voldemort had returned and had been in hiding ever since then. "But it sounds a rather tiring existence for a broken-down old buffer in search of a quiet life. Now, if you were to return to Hogwarts —" he added hopefully.

"If you're going to tell me my life would be more peaceful at that pestilential school, you can save your breath, Albus!" Horace interrupted darkly. "I might have been in hiding, but some funny rumors have reached me since Dolores Umbridge left! If that's how you treat teachers these days —"

"Professor Umbridge ran afoul of our centaur herd," Albus informed him, still not at all sorry for what happened to Dolores—for she had brought that upon her for insulting the centaurs in the first place. "I think you, Horace, would have known better than to stride into the forest and call a horde of angry centaurs _'filthy half-breeds.'_ "

"That's what she did, did she?" said Horace, his eyes widening, as if he couldn't believe anyone could be that stupid. "Idiotic woman. Never liked her."

Harry was laughing to himself at those words and turned red when they looked at him.

"Sorry," Harry said hastily. "It's just — I didn't like her either."

Having an idea, he stood up.

"Are you leaving?" asked Horace at once, looking hopeful.

"No, I was wondering whether I might use your bathroom," he lied easily.

"Oh," said Horace, clearly disappointed as he gestured carelessly to the door. "Second on the left, down the hall."

Bowing his head in a silent 'thank you' he left the room, and made sure to close the door behind him. But rather than leave, he leaned against the wall and listened hard. For a few moments there was nothing but the sound of Horace's footsteps pacing the room. But then he heard Horace finally speak, "Don't think I don't know why he's brought you."

If Harry said anything, he couldn't hear anything. But he knew that Harry didn't have any clue to why he was here anymore than Horace did.

"You look very like your father," Horace's voice then went on.

"Yeah, I've been told," he heard Harry answer.

"Except for your eyes. You've got —"

"My mother's eyes, yeah," now sounding tired. Albus smiled. Yes, Lily had always been one of Horace's favorite students.

"Hmpf. Yes, well. You shouldn't have favorites as a teacher, of course, but she was one of mine. Your mother…" he added and Albus smiled a little wider. "Lily Evans. One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, you know. Charming girl. I used to tell her she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too."

"Which was your House?" Harry asked.

"I was Head of Slytherin. Oh, now," his voice added quickly, "don't go holding that against me! You'll be Gryffindor like her, I suppose? Yes, it usually goes in families. Not always, though. Ever heard of Sirius Black? You must have done — been in the papers for the last couple of years — died a few weeks ago —"

Albus winced. That was not the best thing to say at the moment.

"Well, anyway, he was a big pal of your father's at school. The whole Black family had been in my House, but Sirius ended up in Gryffindor! Shame — he was a talented boy. I got his brother, Regulus, when he came along, but I'd have liked the set."

Albus sighed, willing for Horace to shut up about Sirius. He could tell at once that Horace hadn't lost his habit of talking about students as if they were part of his collection.

"Your mother was Muggle-born, of course," Horace's voice went on. "Couldn't believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pure-blood, she was so good."

"One of my best friends is Muggle-born," Harry said, "and she's the best in our year."

"Funny how that sometimes happens, isn't it?" said Horace.

"Not really," said Harry coldly in a rather cold voice.

"You mustn't think I'm prejudiced!" Horace said in response. "No, no, no! Haven't I just said your mother was one of my all-time favorite students? And there was Dirk Cresswell in the year after her too — now Head of the Goblin Liaison Office, of course — another Muggle-born, a very gifted student, and still gives me excellent inside information on the goings-on at Gringotts!"

Albus rolled his eyes in amusement as Horace went on and on about his ex-students and their successful careers. But then Harry asked him, "And all these people know where to find you, to send you stuff?"

He got him there.

"Of course not," Horace said, sounding grim. "I have been out of touch with everybody for a year. Still… the prudent wizard keeps his head down in such times. All very well for Dumbledore to talk, but taking up a post at Hog warts just now would be tantamount to declaring my public allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix! And while I'm sure they're very admirable and brave and all the rest of it, I don't personally fancy the mortality rate —"

"You don't have to join the Order to teach at Hogwarts," Harry said at once. "Most of the teachers aren't in it, and none of them has ever been killed — well, unless you count Quirrell, and he got what he de served seeing as he was working with Voldemort."

He could hear Horace give a slight squawk of protest at the name but Harry went on, "I reckon the staff are safer than most people while Dumbledore's headmaster; he's supposed to be the only one Voldemort ever feared, isn't he?"

"Well, yes," Horace said as Albus looked down, his heart suddenly feeling full at those words, "it is true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has never sought a fight with Dumbledore," Horace muttered grudgingly."And I suppose one could argue that as I have not joined the Death Eaters, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named can hardly count me a friend … in which case, I might well be safer a little closer to Albus. I cannot pretend that Amelia Bones's death did not shake me. If she, with all her Ministry contacts and protection …"

Albus smiled, knowing that the battle had been won and decided that it was a good idea to reenter the room. As soon as he stepped inside, Horace jumped as though he had forgotten he was in the house.

"Oh, there you are, Albus," he said. "You've been a very long time. Upset stomach?"

"No, I was merely reading the Muggle magazines," he lied effortlessly. "I do love knitting patterns. Well, Harry, we have trespassed upon Horace's hospitality quite long enough; I think it is time for us to leave."

Harry jumped up, looking eager to leave and Horace was looking taken aback as he asked, "You're leaving?"

"Yes, indeed," Albus said, trying to sound disappointed, "I think I know a lost cause when I see one."

"Lost…?" he repeated, now sounding agitated. He twiddled his fat thumbs and fidgeted as he watched them get ready to go.

"Well, I'm sorry you don't want the job, Horace," Albus answered, raising his uninjured hand in a farewell salute. "Hogwarts would have been glad to see you back again. Our greatly increased security notwithstanding, you will always be welcome to visit, should you wish to."

"Yes… well… very gracious… as I say…" Horace said, unable to finish a complete sentence, now looking deeply conflicted. "Good-bye, then."

"Bye," said Harry politely as they headed to the front door. Albus fought to keep his mouth straight… wait for it…

"All right, all right, I'll do it!"

Albus turned to see Horace standing breathless in the doorway to the sitting room.

"You will come out of retirement?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, yes," said Horace impatiently. "I must be mad, but yes."

"Wonderful," Albus said, clapping his hands together and beaming. "Then, Horace, we shall see you on the first of September."

"Yes, I daresay you will," grunted Horace. But even as they set off down the garden path, Horace's voice floated after them, "I'll want a pay rise, Dumbledore!"

Albus chuckled as they. Once they were far enough away, he then said to Harry, "Well done, Harry."

Harry looked up at him in surprise and said, "I didn't do anything."

"Oh yes, you did," Albus disagreed. "You showed Horace exactly how much he stands to gain by returning to Hogwarts. Did you like him?"

"Er …" was all Harry could say, as if wondering just how to put his thoughts into words; but Albus understood. Horace was charming and he did grow on you after awhile, but at the same time it could be difficult to find his company bearable.

"Horace," he told him, saving him the job of answering, "likes his comfort. He also likes the company of the famous, the successful, and the powerful. He enjoys the feeling that he influences these people. He has never wanted to occupy the throne himself; he prefers the backseat — more room to spread out, you see. He used to handpick favorites at Hogwarts, sometimes for their ambition or their brains, sometimes for their charm or their talent, and he had an uncanny knack for choosing those who would go on to become outstanding in their various fields. Horace formed a kind of club of his favorites with himself at the center, making introductions, forging useful contacts between members, and always reaping some kind of benefit in return, whether a free box of his favorite crystallized pineapple or the chance to recommend the next junior member of the Goblin Liaison Office."

He looked over at him and softly added to him to be wary of Horace if he could help it. As Harry thought over everything he told him, he decided that no was a good a place as any to leave. "This will do, Harry. If you will grasp my arm."

After they appeared at the familiar-looking house, Harry was eagerly looking towards the country lane that led up to the Burrow. There was an unusual look of peace in his eyes at that and Albus couldn't help but feel happy for him. He didn't say anything until they reached the gate and asked, "If you don't mind, Harry. I'd like a few words with you before we part. In private. Perhaps in here?"

Albus pointed toward a run-down stone house in the yard broomsticks.

Harry looked surprise at the request, but he didn't say anything as he followed him to a small, stone house in the yard that served as a broomshed. Once inside, he illuminated the tip of his wand, so that they could see, and smiled down at Harry.

"I hope you will forgive me for mentioning it, Harry," he said softly, hoping that it would be ok to talk about this particularly painful topic, "but I am pleased and a little proud at how well you seem to be coping after everything that happened at the Ministry. Permit me to say that I think Sirius would have been proud of you."

Harry suddenly swallowed and looked down at his feet as if he hoped that he could sink through the floor and disappear.

"It was cruel," he said gently, wanting him to know that it was ok to feel this way, "that you and Sirius had such a short time together. A brutal ending to what should have been a long and happy relationship."

Harry nodded, but he wasn't sure if he was truly listening to what he was saying. Not that it mattered, for he knew that these last few weeks couldn't have been easy for him.

"It's just hard," Harry said finally, in a low voice, thick with emotion, "to realize he won't write to me again."

His eyes looked rather watery and he looked away as if ashamed.

"Sirius represented much to you that you had never known before," Albus told him in a comforting way, "Naturally, the loss is devastating…"

"But while I was at the Dursleys'…" interrupted Harry, his voice growing stronger, "I realized I can't shut myself away or — or crack up. Sirius wouldn't have wanted that, would he?"

No, he wouldn't… Sirius had fought for his future.

"And anyway, life's too short. … Look at Madam Bones, look at Emmeline Vance… It could be me next, couldn't it? But if it is," he said fiercely, now looking straight into Dumbledore's blue eyes gleaming in the wandlight, "I'll make sure I take as many Death Eaters with me as I can, and Voldemort too if I can manage it."

Albus smiled, he sounded like a real leader here. "Spoken both like your mother and father's son and Sirius's true godson!" said Albus with an approving pat on Harry's back. "I take my hat off to you — or I would, if I were not afraid of showering you in spiders."

For the first time, Harry smirked.

"And now, Harry," he went on, "on a closely related subject… I gather that you have been taking the _Daily Prophet_ over the last two weeks?"

"Yes," said Harry, turning grim again.

"Then you will have seen that there have been not so much leaks as floods concerning your adventure in the Hall of Prophecy?" he asked.

"Yes," said Harry again, now sounding upset. "And now everyone knows that I'm the one —"

"No, they do not," he interrupted, knowing where he was going. "There are only two people in the whole world who know the full contents of the prophecy made about you and Lord Voldemort, and they are both standing in this smelly, spidery broom shed."

Harry still didn't looked convinced at his words, so he decided to tell him, "It is true, however, that many have guessed, correctly, that Voldemort sent his Death Eaters to steal a prophecy, and that the prophecy concerned you. Now, I think I am correct in saying that you have not told anybody that you know what the prophecy said?"

"No," said Harry at once.

"A wise decision, on the whole," Albus said, but guessing that it would be best if they made a couple exceptions in this case. "Although I think you ought to relax it in favor of your friends, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. Yes," he continued, when Harry looked startled, "I think they ought to know. You do them a disservice by not confiding something this important to them."

Harry's eyes widened but then he looked away, "I didn't want —"

"— to worry or frighten them?" he asked knowingly. He knew the real reason… he didn't want to see the horrified looks on their faces, or the idea they might desert him. "Or perhaps, to confess that you yourself are worried and frightened? You need your friends, Harry. As you so rightly said, Sirius would not have wanted you to shut yourself away."

Harry said nothing, but he did not need him to answer. Instead, he let him in a little secret… "On a different, though related, subject, it is my wish that you take private lessons with me this year."

"Private — with you?" said Harry, so surprised that he didn't seem able to believe his ears.

"Yes. I think it is time that I took a greater hand in your education," Albus said, taking great care not to mention what these lessons would be about.

"What will you be teaching me, sir?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," he answered airily. He only had a little time left before he would be forced to die and he knew that he had to fill Harry in as much as he could before that day he greeted Death.

Harry looked put out for a moment before he asked, "If I'm having lessons with you, I won't have to do Occlumency lessons with Snape, will I?"

"_Professor _Snape, Harry —" he correctly carefully. No, he had seen enough to know that Harry was just someone who would be unable to learn it. His magic was directly tied to his emotions, so being able to simply shut it out was impossible. He smiled at him and finished, "And no, you will not."

"Good," said Harry, his face flooded with relief, "because they were a —"

He stopped himself, as if wondering what he could call it without getting scolded.

"I think the word 'fiasco' would be a good one here," Albus nodded and to his surprise, Harry had laughed.

"Well, that means I won't see much of Professor Snape from now on," he said, now sounding more upbeat "because he won't let me carry on Potions unless I get 'Outstanding' in my O.W.L., which I know I haven't."

"Don't count your owls before they are delivered," he answered gravely, thinking that it wouldn't be a good idea to inform him that Horace was once the Potions Master. "Which, now I think of it, ought to be some time later today. Now, two more things, Harry, before we part."

Harry looked up, curious to what he had to say. "Firstly," he said firmly, "I wish you to keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times from this moment onward. Even within Hogwarts itself. Just in case, you understand me?"

Harry nodded.

"And lastly, while you stay here, the Burrow has been given the highest security the Ministry of Magic can provide," he informed him. He let him know the measures that the Ministry had put on the Burrow for his safety, and how he shouldn't risk his life while here.

"I understand," said Harry quickly.

"Very well, then," said Albus, pushing open the broom shed door and stepping out into the yard. "I see a light in the kitchen. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore how thin you are."

The two of them passed the boots and rusty cauldrons; before he knocked three times at the worn door. Almost at once, he heard the nervous voice of Molly Weasley ask, "Who's there? Declare yourself!"

"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry," he called to her, letting her know that there was no danger. Almost at once, the door opened, and Molly was standing there in a nightdress, looked reassured.

"Harry, dear!" she said to Harry in delight before looking up at him, "Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!"

"We were lucky," he smiled, ushering Harry over the threshold. "Horace proved much more persuadable than I had expected. Harry's doing, of course." He then noticed that she wasn't alone in the kitchen. "Ah, hello, Nymphadora!"

Nymphadora Tonks was sitting at the kitchen table with a large mug of tea in her hands. He fought a frown when he saw how sick she looked.

"Hello, Professor," she said with a rather forceful smile. "Wotcher, Harry."

"Hi, Tonks," Harry answered, looking confused by her glum appearance. Albus sighed, knowing that Dora hadn't been feeling like her usual self for the last week or so.

"I'd better be off," she said quickly, as if thinking she was interrupting something, standing up and pulling her cloak around her shoulders. "Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly."

"Please don't leave on my account," he said courteously, knowing that Molly would be of good comfort to her right now. "I cannot stay, I have urgent matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour."

'_In other words, continue to argue with him,'_ he added in an afterthought.

"No, no, I need to get going," she said, refusing to look at him. "'Night —"

"Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend, Remus and Mad-Eye are coming — ?" Molly began but Tonks refused before she hurried past him and disapperated—both of them sharing a quick glance at each other at the mention of Remus's name.

Albus smiled sadly before he looked back to Harry and said, "Well, I shall see you at Hogwarts, Harry…" he looked up to Molly and added, "Take care of yourself. Molly, your servant."

He made Molly a bow and followed Tonks, vanishing at precisely the same spot and returning to just outside the Hogwarts gates as if he never left.

***Early Next Morning***

"So you were successful in getting Slughorn to come back?" Severus asked him as he came in with a few more potions to help his condition.

"With a little persuasion on Harry's part, yes," Albus answered, taking his medicine with the usual grain of salt. "You know as well as I do how fond Horace was of Lily, I think that seeing Harry had helped him to see just how much he stood to gain by coming back. And this also means that you will finally be able to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts like you always wanted."

Severus shifted uncomfortably. "You haven't bothered to inform me to why you feel it is so important that Slughorn returns? I doubt that he's changed since he left."

Albus chuckled. "No, he hasn't. It was very nostalgic to be honest. But just know that by being here, he is safe, and he might be able to help us out in more ways than we know."

"Like how?" Severus asked, raising his eyebrow at him curiously.

"We shall soon see," Albus smiled, "That's all I have to say."

Severus was still frowning at him as he paced the office, as if agitated. Albus watched him as he continued taking the potions. After a few minutes he asked, "Now, why do you seem so uneasy, Severus? After all, now that Horace has agreed to come back, you finally have the job that you had been working so hard to teach for years. Shouldn't you at least try to pretend to be a little bit pleased?"

"I just can't help but feel as if you had other motives for giving me the job," Severus answered silkily.

Albus merely smiled, "Well, there is one more condition you have to agree to if you still want the job."

"I knew it," Severus said grumpily. "And what is that?"

"Merely that you have to allow students who have achieved Exceeds Expectations in their Defense O.W.L's," he informed him.

"And why would I want that?" he demanded. "What's the point in teaching those who obviously show no talent in the subject?"

"Because I'm afraid that there's only been one person who got an Outstanding in their O.W.L exam," he answered lightly. "So you have to be able to allow Exceeds Expectations as well. Besides, in a war, I think that we need to allow as many students as we can to learn how to defend themselves."

"Wonderful," Severus hissed. "Of course, only Miss Granger would pass…"

"Actually, I believe that she also achieved an Exceeds Expectations," Albus disagreed cheerfully. "Apparently she had a bad case of nerves during the practical part of the exam and couldn't focus. That's all I have to say on the matter."

Severus raised his eyebrows again. "So someone finally beat Granger?"

"Be nice for once, Severus," Albus scolded softly.

"Fine, I'll accept them," Severus responded gruffly. "But who was the one who beat her?"

Albus smiled once more as he finished his medicine before he answered, "Harry of course…"

**(What do you all think? I hope that I did justice on this chapter. We finally reached the sixth year. The next chapter will be about the first lesson! Hope you all enjoyed this.)**


	56. A New Apprentice

**Chapter 56: A New Apprentice**

The days just seemed to drag on forever…

Albus could almost feel the Dark Magic that had come from the ring spreading throughout his body almost like a poison… He was still kicking himself for that moment of stupidity…

And because of his own foolishness, he was going to die very soon. But he knew that it was his own vault that he was now slowly fading away—he knew that there was no one to blame but himself for his moment of weakness. He didn't know exactly how much time he had, all he knew for sure was that he will, without a doubt, be dead before this school year is over.

He winced in pain as he dropped his quill at the desk, cursing himself all the while. He couldn't even hold up a quill anymore without being in pain.

He pulled out his wand and used it to enchant the quill to write for him as he got up and walked over to one of his many cabinets where he kept his supply of potions that Severus had brew for him. Though these would help relieve the pain, they didn't do anything else to help him. But still, feeling the slight bit of relief as his burning hand suddenly turned numb was welcomed. He stared at the burnt fingers, feeling almost grateful that he had an excuse to leave this world and all the burdens of life soon. But…

He looked up to the window and thought back to all the happy years he had spent in this office, watching the Quidditch teams practice and play…

He smiled a little as he set the empty potion bottle down, making a mental note to tell Severus to make a few more for him. Speaking of Severus…

He chuckled a little as he returned to his desk, thinking about the expression that had been on the Potions Master's face when he told him about Harry being the only person to receive an Outstanding in his O.W.L's. As if he had been sure he heard wrong…

Albus sighed again, leaning back in his comfortable chair, fighting the urge to fall asleep right then and there. Instead, he looked up at the ceiling, wondering how everything would end. Just two months ago, he finally came out and told Harry about the prophecy which marked Harry as the only one who could destroy Voldemort.

He couldn't help but wonder just when it all happened… why did he let it get this far? When did he start seeing Harry as more than just one of his students? Just last year, he made himself the scapegoat for the crimes of Harry and his secret DADA group. He had to flee the school and become a fugitive because he wanted to protect Harry and keep him in school… just when did it all take root?

And now this…

He remembered Minerva telling him that Harry had wanted to become an Auror and he couldn't say that he was the least bit surprised. But then again, he also knew that with Severus's refusal to teach NEWT potions to any student who got less than an O on their potion's OWL, Harry had no chance of becoming an Auror as long as Severus taught Potions. It was thus essential, for Harry's sake, that they get a new Potions Master. Therefore, Albus courted his own death by promoting Snape to the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, simply to furnish Harry with a Potions Master who would allow him to take the NEWT-level course.

He smiled, hoping that no one else would notice this…

As tired as he was, he knew that he had to suffer through this one last year, so he made an effort to enjoy as much as he could of this castle… the Welcoming Feast was tomorrow night… he was going to savor every last bite… for it would be his last.

*Welcoming Feast*

To his relief, the students all boarded the train and arrived at the castle without any problems at all. They were all checked with Secrecy Sensors when they arrived and were all now filing into the Great Hall. He leaned back in his seat, watching them all fondly—never really appreciating just what a magical experience it was to sit here at the first night. He remembered when he first arrived here as a student all those years ago—feelings of excitement and terror were going through his body as he walked up with his fellow First-years and waited for the Sorting Hat to sort him into one of the four Houses.

The Great Hall looked much the same as it did back then… with its four long House tables and its staff table set at the top of the room was decorated with the hundreds of floating candles that made the plates below glitter and glow. The only difference was the people sitting there… and he was sitting at the Headmaster's chair instead of the line of newest students.

He smiled sadly as he remembered… if someone had told him way back then that he would've spent most of his life here at this school teaching, he would've told them that they were crazy. He was a young and gifted wizard who had planned on going to the Ministry once he was done with school.

Its strange how life can sneak up on you… he was glad of his life here though. He was grateful that he had been given all these years of happiness. He smiled happily as the first years aligned up in front of them and Minerva set the Sorting Hat on the stool.

The Hat just sat there for a few minutes, like it did every year, before its mouth opened up and began to sing…

_I start on quite a solemn note,_

_Which is very strange for me._

_But when I look around this hall,_

_It's quite empty, that I see._

_This school was once united,_

_But no one could have foreseen,_

_That it would come to this…_

_Now the school stands few and far between._

_Here I sit here before you,_

_To tell you the sad tale,_

_Because to understand these dark times,_

_We must learn from the past to prevail._

_When Hogwarts was first started a thousand years ago,_

_It was built by the Founders four,_

_There was sly Slytherin, clever Ravenclaw,_

_Followed by gentle Hufflepuff, and daring Gryffindor._

_But each Founder was different,_

_And so in the end,_

_A single House was created,_

_For each different friend…_

_Cunning Slytherin was one House,_

_It is the House of great ambition…_

_A House where they valued best,_

_Of all pureblood tradition._

_As for those who went to Ravenclaw,_

_They were made of different kinds,_

_Known for their wits, brains, and smarts…_

_A place where they could challenge their minds._

_And then there was brave Gryffindor,_

_The House of the daring and strong;_

_It was here that they found a place,_

_Where they found they did belong._

_And let us not forget loyal Hufflepuff,_

_The final House that took those good and true._

_This House learned of compassion and friendship,_

_And that's how they pulled through._

_For a while, it seemed that the school,_

_Would live on and be just fine,_

_At least until the trust between Founders,_

_Fell down and went into decline._

_In the end, he saw no hope,_

_And it was Slytherin who chose to leave,_

_He left his friends far behind,_

_And it is here the school began to grieve._

_But now the school is old and danger now looms,_

_A war is knocking at our door,_

_The distrust Hogwarts once had;_

_And that is at the war's core._

_I sort you of your strengths,_

_But your advantage is in groups._

_If we stand united once again,_

_To find the way out of war's loops._

_Stand up for what you know is right,_

_But if you look out for only one,_

_Then you'll find very soon,_

_That your allies will be none._

_I know sorting is my job,_

_But you must teach others what you know,_

_To know what your House stands for,_

_And where you have to go._

_Like you all, each of these four Houses,_

_Have a uniqueness all its own,_

_Now come on up and put me on,_

_And see if you have a trait you've never known!_

Albus sighed as he clapped along with the others. Like last year, the Sorting Hat was giving them all warning to what was coming. Once again, here was proof that the Sorting Hat was so much smarter than most.

He watched each of the First-years go up and try the hat on, one-by-one they were sorted and went running off to their table. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted Hagrid sneak happily though the side door and take his seat at the end of the table.

Noticing that he was looking, Hagrid gave him a merry wave, which he returned with a smile. Albus knew what had taken him so long. After Albus learned about Grawp, he found a quiet place up higher in the mountains where he could be without restraints and find it much more comfortable than the forest.

Hagrid had been working on making him his assistant. Though Albus made sure that wouldn't happen until he was sure that Grawp was domesticated. Smiling he glanced around as each of the students, as if trying to commit everything to memory. As the newest Slytherin went running off to his table, he looked up in time to see him. Draco Malfoy—the boy who had become a Death Eater and had been ordered to kill him—was sitting there miming the shatterering of a nose to raucous laughter and applause.

He frowned sadly, knowing that Draco would never be able to go through with it. He looked back as the newest Hufflepuff was running off to the applauding table and felt a sense of grief inside him. It's sad to think at how the young believe life to be easy… but soon they discover the hard way that it is more difficult than they could ever expect. Draco may be used to strutting around the castle with his friends, but working for Voldemort and to be expected to do whatever he commanded was a completely different matter.

His eyes glanced up to the Gryffindor table and his eyes travelled along it, realizing that someone was missing. It wasn't until the Sorting was over, did the doors that led into the Great Hall opened and Harry came in—he blinked in surprise to see that his face covered with blood. He walked so fast that he was passing the Hufflepuff table before people really started to stare, and by the time they were standing up to get a good look at him, he was already sitting with his friends and Hermione took care of his face.

Deciding not to draw attention to that, he stood up at the end of the feast and announced to them all, smiling widely, truly feeling more alive tonight than he had in years, "The very best of evenings to you!"

There were gasps around the room as they noticed his right hand; but rather than say anything about it, he merely smiled and shook his sleeve over it—out of sight, out of mind.

"Nothing to worry about," he reassured them all, "Now… to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you…"

He went on with his speech, letting them know that any joke items from the Weasley twins new shop were now banned, that anyone who was interested in joining a Quidditch team should check their names with their Heads of Houses, and he introduced Horace as the new Potions Master.

"Potions?"

"Potions?"

The word echoed all over the Hall as people stared at each other, obviously wondering if they heard right.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," Albus continued, knowing that this was going to raise some controversy, "will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"No!" yelled one voice loudly over the others, but Albus didn't look towards Harry as he looked over at Severus, who was sitting on his right, raising his hand in lazy acknowledgment of the applause from the Slytherin table.

Albus cleared his throat, patiently waiting until all the talk had died down before he went on, "Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength."

The silence seemed to tauten and strain at his words as his eyes looked over them all—especially over at Draco who was making his fork hover in midair with his wand, as if he thought he was too good to listen in to his words.

"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe," he said, loudly and firmly. "The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that you teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."

He looked over them all before he sighed and said in his most upbeat voice, "But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

He kept the smile on his face as the students all got up and made their way sleepily up to their beds. But as he also left the room, he felt his energy slowly fading and heading up to his own office felt like his limbs were made of lead.

*That night*

"Well, everyone sure is singing a different tune this year," Dexter told him as he rested at his desk. "All over the place, everyone's asking if Harry's really the 'Chosen One' or not. You should hear some of them talking."

"Yes," Albus said tiredly. "That is to be expected. Now that everyone knows he has been telling the truth, they will try to get on his good side. But tell me, do you know why he was covered in blood when he came in?"

"Tonks found him on the train," Dexter answered with a frown, "I overheard them talking about it to Ronald. Apparently Malfoy froze him and stepped on his face."

Albus sighed Dexter explained everything he heard Harry tell his friends on what he had overheard Malfoy saying on the Hogwarts Express—with Phineas laughed himself silly at the idea of Malfoy breaking Harry's nose.

"I see that he is already suspicious about Draco," Albus said softly, this wasn't good. He couldn't risk Harry getting involve in this. "Just keep an eye on him for me," he whispered, "now more than ever. If this is my final year here, then I need to be on top of everything…" he looked out at the dark sky and felt so tired before he sighed. "It'll be over for me soon."

"Don't talk like that," Dilys said softly.

"I am merely speaking the truth," Albus answered, holding up his hand so that they could see. "I'm not any happier about this than all of you are, but this is to be my fate. I still have plenty of time to prepare for everything."

He suddenly thought of something as he looked out at the mountains in the distance and was reminded of Grawp. "I noticed that they aren't taking Care of Magical Creatures anymore are they?"

"No," Dexter informed him, and quickly told him how they were talking about it as well. Albus sighed, wondering just what the future had in store for them all.

***A few days later***

Albus spent most of the next week in his office, researching as much as he could about Voldemort's past, and hopefully get a hint to where he could find another Horcrux. So far, he had made many connections, but few real leads.

He frowned heavily, feeling like he was beating the inside of his head with a bludger bat. He had to give Tom credit; he knew how to cover his tracks well. He sighed as he poured over all the memories he had been able to collect, but it hadn't been easy—he was still missing several key clues.

Something that did cheer him up was that he heard that Harry had received a detention from Severus… again.

"Dare I ask?" he asked Dilys, after a long day of research and letters to the Ministry, glad to have something to distract him.

"Oh, something about mouthing off in class," Dilys said with a smile. "That Snape never could take jokes could he?"

"Got some kind of stick up his arse," added one of the other Headmasters to himself that Albus ignored.

"Those two have sure got a lot more ferocious with each other over the summer," Dilys sighed as Albus looked away. Yes, he knew that was to happen. Severus had never liked Harry simply for who his parents were, and Harry disliked Severus for all the treatment over the years.

Of course, Harry still had no idea to just what Severus's connection was to him.

"I had the feeling that was the case," Albus sighed. He did get a bit of a surprise when he heard of the Half-Blood Prince.

"I believe that was once Severus's nickname while he was here," Albus whispered in surprise. How did Harry find out about Severus' nickname?

"I just overheard them talking about it," Everard answered. "Apparently this Potion's book is what's giving him such good marks in potions all of a sudden. Hermione doesn't seem so happy about it."

He chuckled at that. No, he had a feeling that wouldn't do anything to help Hermione. Well, deciding that now was a good a time as any, he had already given Minerva a message, to give to one of her Gryffindors to pass onto Harry, letting him know to come to the office on Saturday for the first lesson.

But later that night as he looked out at the silver moon and sparkling stars… he smiled sadly the night sky, wondering just how much more of this he could enjoy before he lost everything.

***Saturday's Lesson***

"Come in," Albus called to the knock on his door just as it chimed eight.

"Good evening, sir," came Harry's familiar voice as he stepped in.

"Ah, good evening, Harry," Albus said smiling, truly glad to see him again, "Sit down, I hope you've had an enjoyable first week back at school?"

"Yes, thanks, sir," said Harry awkwardly, and Albus could see that Harry still wasn't completely comfortable around him; not that he was surprised.

"You must have been busy, a detention under your belt already!" he asked, more amused than scolding as Harry looked down embarrassed. And he then explained that he would serve his detention with Severus _next_ Saturday.

"Right," said Harry, looking around the room, obviously wondering just what he was going to learn tonight.

Understanding the look, he asked in an organized voice, "So, Harry. You have been wondering, I am sure, what I have planned for you during these — for want of a better word — lessons?"

"Yes, sir," he nodded curiously.

Albus sat up in his chair and explained, "Well, I have decided that it is time, now that you know what prompted Lord Voldemort to try and kill you fifteen years ago, for you to be given certain information."

There was a short pause as Harry's eyes narrowed and said accusingly, "You said, at the end of last term, you were going to tell me everything… Sir," he added, at least trying to be polite.

"And so I did," Albus nodded, his heart racking with guilt to know that he was still holding back so much information. "I told you everything I know. From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into thickets of wildest guesswork. From here on in, Harry, I may be as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who believed the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron."

Harry blinked at the choice of words but asked him if he believed that he was right.

"Naturally I do, but as I have already proven to you," Albus said a little softer, "I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being — forgive me — rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger."

Yes, the damage done to this young man across from him was living proof.

"Sir," said Harry tentatively, stepping forward a little, "does what you're going to tell me have anything to do with the prophecy? Will it help me… survive?"

Albus's eyes saddened a little, knowing that the odds of Harry coming out of this war alive were slim to none. But he was determined to make this plan work. "It has a very great deal to do with the prophecy," he said as casually as he could muster, "and I certainly hope that it will help you to survive."

Feeling older all of a sudden, he got to his feet and walked around the desk, past Harry, so that he could retrieve his Pensieve from its usual place. As he came back to the desk, he noticed Harry's uneasy look.

"You look worried," he commented with a kind smile as Harry's eyes followed the stone basin, like he thought it was going to bite. "This time, you enter the Pensieve with me… and, even more unusually, with permission."

Harry looked at him in surprised. "Where are we going, sir?" he asked.

"For a trip down Bob Ogden's memory lane," he answered as he pulled out the bottle that had the memory inside it.

Predictably, Harry asked, "Who was Bob Ogden?"

"He was employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he answered, remembering fondly of the student who had once come here not long after he started teaching. "He died some time ago, but not before I had tracked him down and persuaded him to confide these recollections to me. We are about to accompany him on a visit he made in the course of his duties. If you will stand, Harry…"

But even as he said that, he couldn't pull the stopper out of the bottle—his hand was still very stiff and just touching something was painful for him.

"Shall — shall I, sir?" Harry asked him, staring at the hand, somehow sensing that there was something truly wrong with it.

"No matter, Harry —" he said at once, trying to brush off his injury as he used his wand to free the stopper. He was starting to feel annoyed with himself that he was forced to rely more and more on magic to do even the tiniest tasks.

"Sir — how did you injure your hand?" Harry asked again, looking at the blackened fingers with a mixture of revulsion and pity.

"Now is not the moment for that story, Harry," he said firmly, but gently. "Not yet. We have an appointment with Bob Ogden."

Harry looked like he was about to complain, but Albus tipped the silvery contents of the bottle into the Pensieve. "After you," he insisted. Harry looked a little apprehensively at the memories before he slowly bent forward, and disappeared into the silvery substance.

As he disappeared, he looked down at his hand with a frown. He knew that he would have to put up a stronger front to keep him from realizing something before he followed after him, landing in the memory right outside Hangleton.

Harry was already looking at Ogden in his frock coat and spats over a striped one-piece bathing costume with amusement. But before he could ask any questions, Ogden had set off at a brisk walk down the lane and the two of them followed after him.

They followed him in silence down the short way, down the lane curved to the left and fell away, sloping steeply down a hillside, so that they had a sudden, unexpected view of a whole valley laid out in front of them. He looked sideways at Harry, watching the recognition in his eyes as he looked at the church and graveyard that lay before them. Albus's own eyes soften as watched Harry looking up at the beautiful manor house surrounded by a wide expanse of velvety green lawn.

Together, they walked on, hurrying a little faster so that they could keep up with Ogden. The lane curved to the right and when they rounded the corner, and Ogden slipped through a gap in the hedge. They followed him onto a narrow dirt track bordered by higher and wilder hedgerows down a crooked, rocky, and potholed path that led down the hill until they spotted it.

Even after all this, Albus couldn't repress the shudder as he looked at the house, remembering what happened here only weeks ago. But thankfully, Harry was so focused on the scene in front of him, didn't notice.

Soon, the ragged form of Morfin Gaunt dropped down from a tree, right in front of Ogden, who unsurprisingly jumped backwards. Harry actually took a step back in surprise as Morfin started to let out a low hissing sound.

"Er — good morning," Ogden stammered, "I'm from the Ministry of Magic —"

Again Morfin continued to hiss—though Albus had a very good idea to what he was saying. _'You're not welcomed,' _or something along those lines…

"Er — I'm sorry — I don't understand you," said Ogden nervously.

Albus looked down at Harry and saw him looking at Ogden in surprise—as if he couldn't understand why Ogden didn't understand Morfin's words and he asked him quietly if he could understand him, though he already knew the answer.

"Yes, of course," said Harry, slightly nonplussed at the question, "Why can't Ogden —?"

But then he stopped as he thought it over, Albus watched as his eyes dart to the dead snake hanging on the door before he looked at him and asked, "He's speaking Parseltongue?"

"Very good," he answered, nodding and smiling. Now, Albus could also understand Parseltongue; but only to a certain degree. He did not know the exact words of the dialogue, but he had a very good idea to the words. Morfin was now advancing on Ogden, knife in one hand, wand in the other—almost begging for a fight.

"Now, look —" Ogden began, but too late: There was a bang, and Ogden was on the ground, clutching his nose, while a nasty yellowish goo squirted from between his fingers.

"Morfin!" cried out another loud voice and just then Marvolo Gaunt came marching out of the cottage, banging the door behind him so that the dead snake swung pathetically. He came to a halt beside his son, who was now cackling with laughter at the sight of Ogden on the ground.

"Ministry, is it?" he asked, looking down at Ogden.

"Correct!" said Ogden angrily, dabbing his face. "And you, I take it, are Mr. Gaunt?"

"S'right," Marvolo snapped at him before he looked back at his son and asked, "Got you in the face, did he?"

"Yes, he did!" snapped Ogden.

"Should've made your presence known, shouldn't you?" Marvolo snarled aggressively. "This is private property. Can't just walk in here and not expect my son to defend himself."

"Defend himself against what, man?" said Ogden, clambering back to his feet.

"Busybodies. Intruders. Muggles and filth," he answered as if it was obvious. Ogden meanwhile was pointing his wand at his own nose to fix the damage. Marvolo then hissed to Morfin of the corner of his mouth; clearly telling him to get in the house.

Morfin seemed to be on the point of disagreeing, but when his father cast him a threatening look he changed his mind, lumbering away to the cottage and slammed the front door behind him, so that the snake swung sadly again.

"It's your son I'm here to see, Mr. Gaunt," said Ogden, as he mopped the last of the pus from the front of his coat. "That was Morfin, wasn't it?"

"Ah, that was Morfin," Marvolo said indifferently. "Are you pure-blood?" he asked, suddenly aggressive.

"That's neither here nor there," said Ogden coldly, and Albus couldn't fight back the smile on his face. Ogden had always been a good student and it saddened him greatly when he learned of his death.

"Now I come to think about it, I've seen noses like yours down in the village," Marvolo snarled, trying to insult Ogden.

"I don't doubt it, if your son's been let loose on them," said Ogden angrily. "Perhaps we could continue this discussion inside?"

"Inside?"

"Yes, Mr. Gaunt. I've already told you," Ogden said slowly and clearly, "I'm here about Morfin. We sent an owl —"

"I've no use for owls," Marvolo snapped. "I don't open letters."

Personally, Albus couldn't help but wonder if Marvolo could even read as Ogden went on speaking to him.

"All right, all right, all right!" Marvolo howled at him, turning and marching back to the house with Ogden right behind him. "Come in the bleeding house, then, and much good it'll do you!"

Albus put a hand on Harry's shoulder, who had been watching them all with shock and repulse, and steered him inside so that they could listen. Morfin was already sitting in a filthy armchair beside the fire, twisting a live adder between his thick fingers and crooning softly at it in Parseltongue. Albus fought the cold shiver that went up his spine at the house and the reminder of how close he came to dying not too long ago. Just then, he looked over to see Merope, who was fiddling around with the shelf—her hands shaking a little as she picked up a pot.

"M'daughter, Merope," he said grudgingly, as if forced to explain an embarrassing piece of artwork on the wall, when Ogden looked inquiringly toward her.

"Good morning," said Ogden kindly to her. Predictably, she didn't answer as she looked at her father in terror and went back to the pots. From her behavior, this was obviously something that she was used to doing whenever her father was around.

"Well, Mr. Gaunt," said Ogden, "to get straight to the point, we have reason to believe that your son, Morfin, performed magic in front of a Muggle late last night."

At his words, Merope accidently dropped one of the pots.

"Pick it up!" Marvolo bellowed at her as she quickly bent down to clean up the mess. "That's it, grub on the floor like some filthy Muggle, what's your wand for, you useless sack of muck?"

"Mr. Gaunt, please!" said Ogden in a shocked voice, as Albus frowned heavily at Marvolo, his heart now aching for Merope. Even after she pulled her wand out and tried to fix it, she ended up causing it to fly across the room and to the wall until it broke even further.

Morfin cackled at watching his father torment his sister. "Mend it, you pointless lump, mend it!"

But Ogden had already done it for her, fixing the pot, and giving Marvolo an incredulous look—as if he couldn't believe that he would treat his only daughter like this. Rather than shouting at him, he went back to sneer at his daughter, "Lucky the nice man from the Ministry's here, isn't it? Perhaps he'll take you off my hands, perhaps he doesn't mind dirty Squibs…"

Without looking at anybody or thanking Ogden, Merope picked up the pot and returned it, hands trembling, to its shelf before she stood back, hoping that her father would turn his anger to someone else.

"Mr. Gaunt," Ogden began again, "as I've said: the reason for my visit —"

"I heard you the first time!" snapped Marvolo angrily. "And so what? Morfin gave a Muggle a bit of what was coming to him — what about it, then?"

"Morfin has broken Wizarding law," said Ogden sternly.

"'Morfin has broken Wizarding law'," Marvolo imitated Ogden's voice, like how a small child would just to be annoying, while Morfin cackled again. "He taught a filthy Muggle a lesson, that's illegal now, is it?"

"Yes," said Ogden without hesitation, trying to remind him that just because he's a pureblood doesn't make him above the law. "I'm afraid it is."

He pulled from an inside pocket a small scroll of parchment and unrolled it.

"What's that, then, his sentence?" Marvolo asked angrily as Ogden pulled out a scroll of parchment.

"It is a summons to the Ministry for a hearing —" he informed him calmly.

"Summons! Summons?" Marvolo demanded, now almost spitting with anger, "Who do you think you are, summoning my son anywhere?"

And so the arguing went back and forth between the two, resulting in Marvolo waving the Peverell ring—the Resurrection Stone—in front of Ogden's face. The fingers on Albus's burnt hand twitched slightly just looking at the stone… his feelings conflicted. He didn't move an inch from where he stood until Marvolo dragged Merope over so that they could see the locket.

"See this?" he bellowed at Ogden, shaking a heavy gold locket at him, while Merope spluttered and gasped for breath.

"I see it, I see it!" said Ogden hastily.

"Slytherins!" he yelled. "Salazar Slytherin's! We're his last living descendants, what do you say to that, eh?"

And all the good it did him… living in poverty with his two children completely miserable. If there was any proof needed to show how these pureblood obsession was nothing but a curse, this was it.

"Mr. Gaunt, your daughter!" said Ogden in alarm, but Marvolo had already released Merope so that she fell away from him to the corner as she sucked in air.

"So!" he then cried out triumphantly, "Don't you go talking to us as if we're dirt on your shoes! Generations of pure-bloods, wizards all — more than you can say, I don't doubt!"

And he spat on the floor at Ogden's feet. Albus shook his head sadly, gazing at Merope with pity and sorrow… wishing that he could've helped her escape from this place long before any of this happened.

"Mr. Gaunt," Ogden stated, trying to get back to the matter at hand. "I am afraid that neither your ancestors nor mine have anything to do with the matter in hand. I am here because of Morfin, Morfin and the Muggle he accosted late last night. Our information"— he glanced down at his scroll of parchment — "is that Morfin performed a jinx or hex on the said Muggle, causing him to erupt in highly painful hives."

Morfin giggled happily to himself while his father snarled in Parseltongue, and Morfin quickly fell silent again.

"And so what if he did, then?" Marvolo said defiantly to Ogden, "I expect you've wiped the Muggle's filthy face clean for him, and his memory to boot —"

True, but that doesn't change the fact that the damage had been done.

"That's hardly the point, is it, Mr. Gaunt?" said Ogden. "This was an unprovoked attack on a defenseless —"

"Ar, I had you marked out as a Muggle-lover the moment I saw you," sneered Marvolo, and he spat on the floor again.

"This discussion is getting us nowhere," said Ogden firmly, now losing his calm attitude. "It is clear from your son's attitude that he feels no remorse for his actions."

He then went on to explain how Morin would then go to a hearing to answer for the attack. But before he could finish, they heard the sounds of horses right outside, which caused Marvolo to freeze where he stood. It was this sound that caused Merope to look up. That was when they watched as Marvolo learned of Merope's affection for Tom Riddle and that was when he lost it completely.

Both Harry and Ogden yelled "No!" at seeing Marvolo try to strangle her and Ogden cursed Marvolo back away from her before he ran… Morfin was on his tail with his wand in one hand, and a bloody knife in the other. Ogden ran for his life as Merope screamed in terror—Albus jerked Harry with him so that they could follow. And as they did, he knew that Harry got a good look at the man on the horse…

"I think that will do, Harry," he said, knowing that this was where the memory ended. He took Harry by the elbow until they were soaring back up to his office.

"What happened to the girl in the cottage?" said Harry at once, as Albus went around to light the extra lamps with a flick of his wand. "Merope, or whatever her name was?"

"Oh, she survived," he answered truthfully, as they then took their seats. "Ogden Apparated back to the Ministry and returned with reinforcements within fifteen minutes. Morfin and his father attempted to fight, but both were overpowered, removed from the cottage, and subsequently convicted by the Wizengamot. Morfin, who already had a record of Muggle attacks, was sentenced to three years in Azkaban. Marvolo, who had injured several Ministry employees in addition to Ogden, received six months."

"Marvolo?" Harry repeated slowly, his eyes widening in recognition.

"That's right," Albus answered, smiling in approval as Harry stared at him. "I am glad to see you're keeping up."

Harry gasped as he croaked out, quickly putting two and two together, "That old man was —?"

"Voldemort's grandfather, yes," Albus confessed. "Marvolo, his son, Morfin, and his daughter, Merope, were the last of the Gaunts, a very ancient Wizarding family noted for a vein of instability and violence that flourished through the generations due to their habit of marrying their own cousins."

He then went to explain how the family came to live in poverty, and about the two family heirlooms that Marvolo cherished more than his own children.

"So Merope," said Harry, leaning forward in his chair and staring at him, "so Merope was… Sir, does that mean she was… Voldemort's mother?"

He nodded grimly. "It does. And it so happens that we also had a glimpse of Voldemort's father. I wonder whether you noticed?"

"The Muggle Morfin attacked?" Harry asked at once, "The man on the horse?"

"Very good indeed," Albus beamed, but he already knew that Harry would know. "Yes, that was Tom Riddle senior, the handsome Muggle who used to go riding past the Gaunt cottage and for whom Merope Gaunt cherished a secret, burning passion."

"And they ended up married?" Harry said in disbelief.

"I think you are forgetting," Albus reminded him, "that Merope was a witch. I do not believe that her magical powers appeared to their best advantage when she was being terrorized by her father. Once Marvolo and Morfin were safely in Azkaban, once she was alone and free for the first time in her life, then, I am sure, she was able to give full rein to her abilities and to plot her escape from the desperate life she had led for eighteen years." He then asked him if he could think of any way that Merope might've enchanted Tom Riddle.

"The Imperius Curse?" Harry suggested. "Or a love potion?"

"Very good," he answered. "Personally, I am inclined to think that she used a love potion. I am sure it would have seemed more romantic to her, and I do not think it would have been very difficult, some hot day, when Riddle was riding alone, to persuade him to take a drink of water."

He then went on to explain how when Tom and Merope ended up running away together, how Marvolo returned to find his daughter gone and how he died.

"And Merope?" Harry asked confused. "She… she died, didn't she? Wasn't Voldemort brought up in an orphanage?"

"Yes, indeed," Albus answered. "We must do a certain amount of guessing here, although I do not think it is difficult to deduce what happened. You see, within a few months of their runaway marriage, Tom Riddle reappeared at the manor house in Little Hangleton without his wife. The rumor flew around the neighborhood that he was talking of being 'hoodwinked' and 'taken in.' What he meant, I am sure, is that he had been under an enchantment that had now lifted, though I daresay he did not dare use those precise words for fear of being thought insane. When they heard what he was saying, however, the villagers guessed that Merope had lied to Tom Riddle, pretending that she was going to have his baby, and that he had married her for this reason."

"But she _did_ have his baby," Harry reminded him.

"But not until a year after they were married," Albus informed him truthfully. "Tom Riddle left her while she was still pregnant."

"What went wrong?" asked Harry in surprise. "Why did the love potion stop working?"

"Again, this is guesswork," Albus answered, before telling him how he believed that Merope had grown to love Tom so dearly that she couldn't bear to keep using the Love Potion. How she had convinced herself that he would stay… but in the end, he walked out and never saw her again.

He glanced at the darkening sky before looking back to Harry and answering, "I think that will do for tonight, Harry."

"Yes, sir," said Harry as he got to his feet, but stayed where he was as he asked, "Sir… is it important to know all this about Voldemort's past?"

"Very important, I think," he answered.

"And it… it's got something to do with the prophecy?" he went on.

"It has everything to do with the prophecy," he answered.

"Right," said Harry, a little confused as he turned to go, but as he headed to the door, he turned back again. "Sir, am I allowed to tell Ron and Hermione everything you've told me?"

Albus looked at him long and hard for a moment before he nodded in agreement, "Yes, I think Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have proved themselves trust-worthy. But Harry, I am going to ask you to ask them not to repeat any of this to anybody else. It would not be a good idea if word got around how much I know, or suspect, about Lord Voldemort's secrets."

"No, sir, I'll make sure it's just Ron and Hermione," he answered and turned to go. "Good night."

But he then stopped again. Albus looked to see where he was looking, and realized that he was looking at the ring that was sitting on the table.

"Sir," said Harry, staring at it. "That ring —"

"Yes?" he asked.

"You were wearing it when we visited Professor Slughorn that night," he said looking up at him slowly.

"So I was," he agreed, curious to what Harry was thinking.

"But isn't it…" he asked, "sir, isn't it the same ring Marvolo Gaunt showed Ogden?"

He bowed his head, unsure to how this was going, "The very same."

"But how come —?" he asked, not understanding, "Have you always had it?"

"No, I acquired it very recently," he answered truthfully. "A few days before I came to fetch you from your aunt and uncle's, in fact."

"That would be around the time you injured your hand, then, sir?" he then asked.

"Around that time, yes, Harry," he answered smiling.

"Sir, how exactly —?"

"Too late, Harry!" he called, bringing an end to the question before he could even finish, "You shall hear the story another time. Good night."

Harry looked a little surprise by that, but nodded respectfully and bade him goodnight before he left.

Albus smiled as he left, rubbing his destroyed hand unconsciously. "I forget how observant he is…" he whispered to himself, knowing that he would have to work much harder to keep him from getting suspicious.

**(Not as long as most of my other chapters, but I think I'm starting to spoil you all with long ones. I hope you all enjoyed the first lesson as well as the rest of the sixth year. Hope this tides you all over until the next one.)**


	57. Love is a Blessing

**Chapter 57: Love is a Blessing**

Albus hardly saw Hogwarts for the next few weeks. He spent all his time travelling across the country, trying to learn all he could about Voldemort's past, and for any leads he could get on finding a Horcrux. So far however, he had been unsuccessful. Ever since finding the location of the ring, it just seemed to be one dead end after another. But if he had to be honest with himself, he thought that he was doing very well… considering that Rufus had felt the need to set a few Auror's on his trail. He had already been forced to curse Dawlish as the man followed him from a bar.

It was always a great relief that brought him a sense of peace when he was able to return briefly to Hogwarts and hear of all the things that were happening. Such as how the Quidditch teams were progressing, and who was going out with who… his portraits were always ready to exchange gossip with him. And for a short time he could get out of his head and enjoy himself as he listened to ordinary talk.

But here and there, he would get wind of all the Dementor attacks and ridiculous false arrests that the Ministry had been conducting.

"Stan Shunpike?" he said tiredly.

"They say that he was arrested after he was overheard talking about the Death Eaters' secret plans in a pub," Dilys explained.

He sighed tiredly, feeling wearier with each passing day. "Yes, I did hear about that… I had hoped it was merely one of the wild rumors flying around. It sounds like he was trying to make out he knew more than he did. Taking him seriously like that…?"

He remembered Stan from school, and knew that young man didn't have a sinister bone in his body. The idea of him being a Death Eater sympathizer was unheard of to him—though there was always the chance he was under the Imperius Curse. But really, he knew that the Ministry was trying to make it look like they were doing something about it. Already, a couple more students were sent home just last week.

"But you would think that parents would want their children here," Armando pointed out, in a feeble voice. "I mean Hogwarts is safer than their homes! We've got Aurors, and all those extra protective spells set up!"

But Albus knew better… especially after what happened when Hannah Abbott's father came and took her home the other day. Families want their children close by… and he couldn't blame them one bit. Already, most people were going into hiding… several families he knew had even sought to leave the country… heading to anywhere but Britain. Dilys suddenly brought up another very good point.

"After everything that's happened in the last five years you honestly believe that?" she demanded. "Hogwarts isn't as safe as it once was…"

Phineas snorted. "Funny how all this trouble starts the same year that Potter boy did."

Albus was not interested in hearing Phineas talk and was thinking longingly of retiring for the day when a knock came at the door. Not in the mood to really talk, he called for them to enter. It was Argus… and sighing, he made himself listen to all of his suggestions to how to search for Dark Artifacts that the students could be sneaking in or out of the school for the next Hogsmeade trip. Albus had planned on leaving again once he got a good night's sleep and set things up for Argus to have several new Secrecy Sensors before he was finally allowed to sleep.

Exhausted, he collapsed fully clothed onto his bed—asleep in seconds.

***The next day***

That one night felt like he slept for a week as he dragged himself out early that next morning, awoken by his hand now hurting worse than ever before. Gritting his teeth, he held onto his wrist and breathed deeply as he went to the cupboards—thankful to see that Severus had refilled the potions he needed while he had been away.

Once the pain had been numbed, he quickly changed clothes and left, having found a possible lead much farther north. Though he couldn't help but grimly wonder whether these trips to Hogsmeade would continue for much longer. But it did bring a slight peace of mind to know that the students were able to leave the castle ground and enjoy themselves for a few hours.

But the day of the Hogsmeade trip, he had received an urgent message from Minerva, informing him that a student had been cursed. Feeling fear in the pit of his stomach, he turned and went back to the castle a full day early, needing to know what was going on. He had discovered that it had been young Katie Bell, whose condition was in such a state that they had to move her to St. Mungo's because of a cursed necklace.

"What happened?" he asked both Minerva and Severus when they met him at his office.

"Katie was visiting Hogsmeade," Minerva explained, her voice oddly stuffed up—showing how scared she had been, "And it was her friend Leanne who explained it. From what I understand, Miss Bell came back from the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks holding a package and said it was a surprise for somebody at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it."

"We believe that she was under the Imperius Curse," Severus said silkily, "And I have to agree that seems to be the most logical reason."

"But Leanne was suspicious about it and soon the two were arguing about it," Minerva went on. "They got into a fight and the package tore open."

Albus looked to his deck to where the necklace now lay, looking innocent and harmless, but in the low light—it seemed to glint maliciously.

"It's a heavily cursed object," Severus explained. "I was going to destroy it, but thought that you might like to see if first, Headmaster. Miss Bell is incredibly lucky. I found that there was a small hole in her glove and it brushed against it when the necklace fell out… that's why she's the way she is now. But she is still alive. She should recover given some time… but if she had put it on, or even held it in her hands, I believe that it would've killed her."

"And then what happened?" Albus asked them and watched carefully as Minerva then said, "After she touched it, she rose in the air before she began to scream and collapsed. Potter and his friends were nearby and went to get Hagrid and he brought her up to the Hospital Wing. But Poppy couldn't do much for her… she was able to stop her from screaming, but Katie isn't responding to anything. We had to move her to St. Mungo's for more care."

Albus sighed. "And did she say who did it?"

Minerva hesitated for a fraction of a moment before she confessed, "Potter seems to think that it was Mr. Malfoy who did it."

Albus looked up, Minerva misreading the look of surprise on his face. "I know," she told him. "It sounds ridiculous."

"That is a very serious accusation," he said softly, glancing at Severus at that—whom, surprisingly, hadn't said a word against that and was looking away—giving him all the answer he needed. "Did Harry give his reason?"

Minerva explained what Harry told her about how he had followed Malfoy to Borgin and Burkes before Hogwarts started and the conversation they had over-heard between him and Mr. Borgin.

"Draco took something to Borgin and Burkes for repair?" he repeated slowly, this was news to him.

"Said something about mending something," she answered sounding skeptical, "I know it's crazy and we cannot point the finger of blame at Mr. Malfoy purely because he visited the shop where this necklace had been purchased. We looked into it, and it turns out that it had been in there until about a few weeks ago. But that wasn't until after Hogwarts started. And also, Mr. Malfoy was serving detention with me today. So it couldn't possibly be him."

Albus nodded, but keeping this all quiet as he thanked her, and promising that he would talk to Katie's parents. He then asked that she would bring them up to him as he finished talking to Severus about destroying the necklace.

Once she had left, he turned to Severus and asked, "I take it from your expression that it was Draco?"

Severus stood there stiff for a moment before he slowly nodded. "Yes," he answered softly.

Albus sighed as he said, "I'm surprised that Harry guessed it… but then again, he is far too observant for his own good at times. After all…" he glanced at his cursed hand grimly, "I am sure that if he knew a little more about Dark Curses, he might've guessed what was happening to me. Already I can see that he's suspicious about this."

"It's hard not to notice," Severus hissed softly, looking at the hand with a critical eye. "Time is quickly running out for you, Headmaster…"

"I know," he answered softly. "But I can't die yet though… I need to hang on for a bit longer."

He looked up and Severus answered his unspoken question, "Miss Bell should be just fine."

"That's good," Albus sighed in relief, "I'll speak with her parents. Please keep a close eye on Draco. We don't want to risk this happening again."

***Days later***

It wasn't easy speaking to Katie's parents, they were demanding to know who had done such a thing to their daughter—and he did his best to reassure them that Katie would make a full recovery. But as the days dragged on, he could feel his old body growing more and more tired, and he was barely able to stay awake as he prepared everything the night of the next lesson. But he still smiled when he saw Harry enter the room.

"You have had a busy time while I have been away," he said, both of them knowing what he was talking about, "I believe you witnessed Katie's accident."

"Yes, sir," Harry said at once, "How is she?"

It had been hard for all the Gryffindors when they heard of that attack, and he knew that not much information had been spoken about when Katie would be released, or even how she was doing.

"Still very unwell, although she was relatively lucky," he told him honestly, and explained everything that Severus mentioned about the necklace. It can be taken both ways… while it had been terrible for Katie to have been the victim, it was a miracle she was still alive.

"Luckily Professor Snape was able to do enough to prevent a rapid spread of the curse —"

"Why him?" asked Harry quickly, his eyes narrowed, "Why not Madam Pomfrey?"

"Impertinent," said Phineas from his spot on the wall. "I would not have permitted a student to question the way Hogwarts operated in my day."

"Yes, thank you, Phineas," Albus interrupted, knowing how Phineas could go into long rants about how he ran Hogwarts in his day. "Professor Snape knows much more about the Dark Arts than Madam Pomfrey, Harry. Anyway, the St. Mungo's staffs are sending me hourly reports, and I am hopeful that Katie will make a full recovery in time."

"Where were you this weekend, sir?" Harry asked, as Phineas hissed softly.

Albus gave him a blank look, wondering just what to say. Finally he decided on the truth… or rather a small portion of it. "I would rather not say just now. However, I shall tell you in due course."

"You will?" Harry asked, looking completely taken aback at that.

"Yes, I expect so," Albus confessed as he pulled out another bottle of his memories. Unfortunately, he knew he only had so much time left… he would have to come clean and tell him what he knew before it was too late.

"Sir," Harry suddenly said hesitantly, "I met Mundungus in Hogsmeade…"

"Ah yes, I am already aware that Mundungus has been treating your inheritance with light-fingered contempt," Albus said, remembering with Tonks had informed him and Harry's reaction. Though he knew that Harry didn't care about any of the items that Mundungus had stolen; merely the fact that he stole from Sirius. It probably felt like disrespecting Sirius and robbing his grave… "He has gone to ground since you accosted him outside the Three Broomsticks; I rather think he dreads facing me," he informed him. "However, rest assured that he will not be making away with any more of Sirius's old possessions."

"That mangy old half-blood has been stealing Black heirlooms?" said Phineas roared out from his portrait and without waiting for an answer, he turned and left, most likely going to visit his other portrait to see for himself.

"Professor," said Harry, after a short pause, "did Professor McGonagall tell you what I told her after Katie got hurt? About Draco Malfoy?"

"She told me of your suspicions, yes," Albus said softly, and he also knew that it was true.

"And do you —?" Harry began, but he interrupted him.

"I shall take all appropriate measures to investigate anyone who might have had a hand in Katie's accident," he assured him, not wanting him to get involved this time. He and Severus were dealing with this their own way, and he knew that it could end up making things more complicated if Harry kept looking into this. "But what concerns me now, Harry, is our lesson."

But he could tell right away that Harry didn't look happy about this—however, he didn't continue to argue like he half expected him to as he watched him pour the memories into the Pensieve.

"You will remember, I am sure, that we left the tale of Lord Voldemort's beginnings at the point where the handsome Muggle, Tom Riddle, had abandoned his witch wife, Merope, and returned to his family home in Little Hangleton," he reminded him softly, "Merope was left alone in London, expecting the baby who would one day become Lord Voldemort."

"How do you know she was in London, sir?" Harry asked him in surprise.

"Because of the evidence of one Caractacus Burke," he informed him, "who, by an odd coincidence, helped found the very shop whence came the necklace we have just been discussing."

And without another word, he swilled the memories around to show them the memories of Caractacus Burke confessing that a young woman came into his shop and sold the locket for ten Galleons.

"He only gave her ten Galleons?" said Harry indignantly.

"Caractacus Burke was not famed for his generosity," he told him. "So we know that, near the end of her pregnancy, Merope was alone in London and in desperate need of gold, desperate enough to sell her one and only valuable possession, the locket that was one of Marvolo's treasured family heirlooms."

"But she could do magic!" said Harry impatiently. "She could have got food and everything for herself by magic, couldn't she?"

"Ah," Albus said softly, "perhaps she could. But it is my belief—I am guessing again, but I am sure I am right — that when her husband abandoned her, Merope stopped using magic. I do not think that she wanted to be a witch any longer. Of course, it is also possible that her unrequited love and the attendant despair sapped her of her powers; that can happen. In any case, as you are about to see, Merope refused to raise her wand even to save her own life."

He was suddenly reminded of Ariana, and how she had grown to hate that 'Witch' part of herself. And it was his belief that something like that happened to Merope. That perhaps, she had come to blame magic for all the suffering in her life and had simply wanted to find a sense of peace.

"She wouldn't even stay alive for her son?" Harry asked softly, almost to himself.

Albus raised his eyebrows at Harry's oddly stunned tone, and asked if it was possible that he felt pity for Voldemort.

"No," said Harry quickly, but there was still confusion in the green eyes, "but she had a choice, didn't she, not like my mother —"

"Your mother had a choice too," Albus reminded him gently. "Yes, Merope Riddle chose death in spite of a son who needed her, but do not judge her too harshly, Harry," he added, knowing that he couldn't bring himself to resent her. "She was greatly weakened by long suffering and she never had your mother's courage. And now, if you will stand…"

"Where are we going?" Harry asked as he came to stand by him.

"This time," he informed him, "we are going to enter _my_ memory. I think you will find it both rich in detail and satisfyingly accurate. After you, Harry…"

Together, the two of them went travelling through to the past to about fifty years ago. As Harry gazed around at the old-fashioned London, Albus looked ahead to where his past self was crossing a road, and pointed him out. It was always a surreal moment to look at yourself through a memory. It was strange how they forget the littlest details as they followed after him.

"Nice suit, sir," Harry muttered suddenly, and Albus chuckled—already aware that his suit was old fashioned even fifty years ago. He led the way down the road to the orphanage and they watched in on the conversation he had with Mrs. Cole all those years ago.

It was here they looked about how Merope had died, living only long enough to give Tom his name. As well as about how he bullied the other children, how strange accidents seemed to keep popping up. And so they were then taken to the room where they met the handsome, young child who would one day grow up to be none other than Voldemort.

"How do you do, Tom?" he said, coming forward to shake his hand, which Tom took reluctantly, "I am Professor Dumbledore."

"Professor'?" Tom said cautiously, "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"

"No, no," his past self smiled gently.

And the interview was like that the whole way. Tom was used to getting what he wanted, and didn't like that someone was here to challenge him. But as soon as he mentioned the word 'magic', he had gotten Tom's attention.

Albus had always been struck by how quickly Tom believed it. Normally it took a little demonstration before they would realized it was true if they had been raised by Muggles. But Tom went on about all the things he could do… how he has a surprisingly amount of control over them…

He even demanded that he proof that he could use magic too… he wanted to see and note his reactions… Tom was like a puzzle to him. Even after all these years, he continued to act that way to him. He remembered how he had looked into Tom's mind and seeing how he had a bad habit of stealing from the other children.

So he gave him a friendly warning once he told him to return the objects he stole; as well as warning him that magic must be used responsibly and abide by the laws or he will be punished. It saddened him greatly to think of all the ways he had managed to twist them around.

Harry never once said a word as he watched the scene… watched how Tom had refused company to Diagon Alley, and how he discovered how he disliked his own name, how he believed that his mother couldn't have been a witch since she had died, and how Tom had confessed about his ability to talk to snakes.

"I think that will do," Albus finally said when his past self had left the room. Soon they were back out of the past and in his office again.

"Sit down," he said to him calmly. As Harry did, he said, "He believed it much quicker than I did — I mean, when you told him he was a wizard. I didn't believe Hagrid at first, when he told me."

Albus wasn't surprised by that. That was the normal reaction. "Yes, Riddle was perfectly ready to believe that he was — to use his word — 'special,'"

"Did you know — then?" asked Harry quietly.

"Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?" Albus asked him softly. No… how could he have possibly known that? He had never been talented at Divination, but he doubted that even then, he could've seen what Tom would turn out to be.

"No, I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is," he said, "However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I ought to do for others' sake as much as his."

He had believed, he had hoped, that if he arrived at a place that could understand him, then he would change his way. He would turn his life around… but in many ways, he is still that dark child who didn't desire friends… he had only grown to be more powerful.

"His powers, as you heard, were surprisingly well-developed for such a young wizard and — most interestingly and ominously of all — he had already discovered that he had some measure of control over them, and begun to use them consciously. And as you saw, they were not the random experiments typical of young wizards."

Even back then, he was showing dangerous signs… he wished that he had seen through it sooner… have figured out that this was something serious…

"He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control. The little stories of the strangled rabbit and the young boy and girl he lured into a cave were most suggestive… 'I can make them hurt if I want to…"

"And he was a Parselmouth," interjected Harry, looking at his shoes for a moment, and Albus knew that Harry must still feel a little shame at this ability that he shared with Voldemort.

"Yes, indeed; a rare ability, and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although as we know, there are Parselmouths among the great and the good too," he added kindly and smiled when Harry turned red. "In fact, his ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination."

He suddenly glanced at the dark sky through the window, and realized that it was almost curfew. "Time is making fools of us again," he said in mild surprise, "But before we part, I want to draw your attention to certain features of the scene we have just witnessed; for they have a great bearing on the matters we shall be discussing in future meetings."

Harry looked up interested.

"Firstly, I hope you noticed Riddle's reaction when I mentioned that another shared his first name, 'Tom'?" he asked him curiously.

Harry nodded, obviously wondering what he where he was going with this.

"There he showed his contempt for anything that tied him to other people, anything that made him ordinary. Even then, he wished to be different, separate, notorious," Albus said, "He shed his name, as you know, within a few short years of that conversation and created the mask of 'Lord Voldemort' behind which he has been hidden for so long."

Harry nodded again, and he was glad to see that he was keeping up. Though he supposed that Harry would know better than anyone… especially after the incident with the Chamber of Secrets.

"I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless?" Albus added, feeling a great deal of sadness for that. "He did not want help or companionship on his trip to Diagon Alley. He preferred to operate alone. The adult Voldemort is the same. You will hear many of his Death Eaters claiming that they are in his confidence, that they alone are close to him, even understand him. They are deluded. Lord Voldemort has never had a friend, nor do I believe that he has ever wanted one."

Once again, proof that Tom is still the same that he was when he met him… in many ways he hadn't grown up at all.

"And lastly — I hope you are not too sleepy to pay attention to this, Harry — the young Tom Riddle liked to collect trophies," he finished, and his heart ached at the thought that Tom had inherited that terrible habit from his mother's family of valuing objects more than people. "You saw the box of stolen articles he had hidden in his room. These were taken from victims of his bullying behavior, souvenirs, if you will, of particularly unpleasant bits of magic. Bear in mind this magpie-like tendency, for this, particularly, will be important later."

He let Harry absorb this new information before he said, "And now, it really is time for bed."

Harry got to his feet without another word and went to the door, but as he neared it, he noticed that stopped. Following his gaze, he realized that he was now looking at the table where he last saw the ring… much like how he did before.

"Yes, Harry?" he asked, wondering just what was going through his mind at that moment.

"The ring's gone," said Harry, looking around at him, a strange look in his eyes as if he just realized something. "But I thought I you might have the mouth organ or something."

Albus beamed at him, peering over the top of his halfway moon spectacles, feeling his own spirits lift at those words. "Very astute, Harry, but the mouth organ was only ever a mouth organ," he answered with a slight wave, and watched as Harry turned and left.

Now alone in the office, he chuckled, feeling better than he had in a long time.

"Strange boy," Dilys said shaking her head at the closed door.

"Maybe," he smiled, "But I needed that. It's been a long time since I had a laugh."

"But what on earth did that mean?" Dexter asked curiously.

Albus smiled again at her. If he had really thought about it, he probably would've realized that it was almost as if they were old friends sharing a private joke. "Just that he meant that the ring was more than he first thought," he answered.

For the next few weeks after that, he went traveling again. It sadden him greatly that he was forced to leave so often, but kept telling himself that he was short on was swirling against the icy windows once more; Christmas was approaching fast, and it was a painful pang that he would never see the decorations around Hogwarts ever again.

He left the school a few days before the semester ended for the holidays, and he didn't return until about a week before the holidays ended. He had been looking but his search now becoming almost desperate after all these months. He could feel it in his body, it was as if there was a poisonous snake bite and the poison was spreading from the wound—pumping death throughout his body.

Soon, the potions wouldn't be enough to stop the pain…

He only made any real contact with the Order, keeping up to day about any information, and visiting for the occasional meetings about how things were going. A few days before term was to restart, he met with Remus at the end of one particularly hard meeting, with Molly seeming more emotional these days. It wasn't until later did he learned why.

"So Percy came back for Christmas?" he asked hopefully.

"He brought the Minister with him," Remus answered grimly, "It was obvious from the start that Scrimgeour talked him into this so that he could meet Harry. A bit low to resort to such measures…"

"I see," Albus sighed, "I guess I can't say that I'm surprised. It sounds like Rufus finally got his chance to meet with Harry. Just what happened? Do you know?"

"Well, he came in and just happened to ask him to take a walk around the garden with him," Remus said sarcastically, "Harry agreed."

'_Poor man,'_ Albus thought to himself, suddenly feeling sympathetic to Rufus. He knew that Harry wouldn't be willing to listen to anyone in the Ministry these days—and this was only going to make him angry.

"Don't know," Remus confessed. "I didn't hear what they were saying, though I have a good guess. I wanted to go with them, but Harry said he could handle it. Arthur was with Percy, and I have to say that it didn't end well. Ginny and the twins were especially angry that he came back. Not that I blame them… did he really think we were all too stupid to see through this ploy? That we wouldn't think that it at all odd that Scrimgeour just happened to pick _Harry Potter_ to show him around the garden? I didn't buy it for a second that he couldn't recognize him."

"How did the Weasleys take it?" Albus asked as they walked across the yard.

"Arthur didn't say anything," Remus told him. "Molly was in tears… but his sister and brothers? You could cut the tension in the air with a knife."

Albus shook his head, his own morale falling a ways at every word. "And?" he asked.

"Well, they didn't take long," Remus informed him. "Harry came back inside with the Minister, and I have to say that Scrimgeour did not look happy."

"I didn't think he would," Albus said lightly, feeling amused. "After all the trouble the Ministry had given him, I didn't think Harry would be interested in listening."

"He could've let us speak for him," Remus stated, almost to himself as he thought it all over.

But Albus shook his head. "It sounds to me like Harry took care of it by himself," he disagreed, "If anything, it's more likely that it was Harry who bothered Rufus. We can't protect him forever, and he's more confident than he was last year. This is good for him. After all…" he added softly, "We won't always be there to protect him."

Remus didn't say anything to that as they walked together down the street. Albus looked over at him, noticing the miserable expression on his face.

"Remus, you don't seem too well lately. And," he added as Remus started to speak, "I do know that it is not because of the full moon."

His former student froze for a moment and Albus watched as Remus's hands went to the scars on his wrists and rubbed them gently, looking lost in thought. Albus suddenly had an idea and asked hesitantly, "Would this perhaps – correct me if I'm wrong, of course – have something to do with young Nymphadora?"

Remus stopped dead, his eyes widening in shock.

"Ah… I think that's it," Albus smiled a little. "Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing," he said stubbornly.

"On the contrary," Albus stated, "I've been quite worried about Nymphadora lately. I'm sure that if you were to talk to her…?"

"I've tried," Remus said, "But she's not interested."

"I think she is… she's just not happy about the cold shoulder you've been giving her lately," Albus said gently, "Why is that? I'm sure that if you just…"

"It's nothing," Remus interrupted harshly. "I don't know how many times I have to repeat myself. She's too young and…?"

"Personally, I don't see what the problem is," Albus said to him. "Miss Tonks is old enough to know what she wants. And I think I am right in saying that she wants to be with you, Remus."

"She's too young," said Remus stubbornly, "Too young to see the consequences of her choices. She wants me because she's-"

"In love," Albus said, interrupting Remus who froze a third time. "She is in love. Is it so terrible to fall in love with a man when you're a young woman?"

"With a man, no," he said, his face red around the ears, "But with I'm not a man… I'm a werewolf!"

"Nymphadora already knows your condition, Remus," he reminded her softly, "And she has accepted it a long ago."

"She doesn't know the full extent of it!" Remus came close to shouting, "She's never seen me on a full moon. She is completely blind to how dangerous it is! She doesn't know…"

"And didn't James and Sirius accompany you on full moons even when they knew it was dangerous?" he asked softly. "You're friends knew what you were, and how dangerous it was, but they wanted to be with you anyway, Remus."

"I didn't even realize what they were planning until it was too late," Remus confessed sheepishly. "They kept it secret from me until they had been able to pull it off. I think I fainted when they first came in and transformed in front of me. After that, they started to keep me company… and I'm not proud of it."

"Maybe they weren't fully aware of the danger, but Nymphadora is. And with the Wolfsbane potion, you no longer have to worry about losing yourself," Albus admonished.

"What does she see in me? I'm poor… I don't have any money and I can't keep a job longer than a few months," mumbled Remus, trying his last argument.

"Money doesn't matter in love. An even if it did, Miss Tonks is a respected and brilliant Auror who works at the Ministry of Magic," he reminded him softly. "My dear Remus… you honestly think she's vain enough to marry only for money?"

"Of course I don't!" he cried out loudly as Albus beamed at him.

"Then at least give it a try," he said softly. "Love is a blessing, Remus. How much longer are you going to inflict yourself this pain?"

**(A much shorter chapter than what you're used to, but I like to think I covered a lot of ground as well as the important parts. As for me skipping over the memory with Tom, I never liked that part, and the idea of writing it out was torture. So I figured do it this way. I hope that you liked it.)**


	58. Weeping Hearts

**Chapter 58: Weeping Hearts**

Albus already had the Pensieve ready upon the desk once more when Harry arrived for the lesson. The first thing he noticed was Harry looking at his almost as soon as he walked in, but thankfully, he didn't say anything about it as he came over.

"I hear that you met the Minister of Magic over Christmas?" he asked instead, suddenly curious to what happened with him and Rufus.

"Yes," said Harry without any trace of regret or hesitation. "He's not very happy with me."

Albus fought a smile. No, he didn't think that Rufus would. He could just imagine the look on his face if he heard that. "No," he confessed. "He is not very happy with me either. We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, Harry, but battle on."

Harry grinned. "He wanted me to tell the Wizarding community that the Ministry's doing a wonderful job."

Albus couldn't help himself at that and smiled back. "It was Fudge's idea originally, you know." And then he briefly told him on how Cornelius had been so desperate to speak with him about giving him support to keep him in post. Naturally, Harry looked outraged.

"After everything Fudge did last year?" he demanded angrily, looking like he wanted to go into a rant, "After Umbridge?"

Albus nodded his head a little, fully agreeing with him. "I told Cornelius there was no chance of it," he told him, "but the idea did not die when he left office. Within hours of Scrimgeour's appointment we met and he demanded that I arrange a meeting with you —"

"So that's why you argued!" Harry suddenly interrupted, his eyes wide as he remembered something. "It was in the Daily Prophet!"

"The Prophet is bound to report the truth occasionally," Albus confessed casually, "if only accidentally. Yes, that was why we argued. Well, it appears that Rufus found a way to corner you at last."

Though he knew that in the end it wouldn't have done any good. This should at least teach them to leave people alone and do some work themselves. But he really had expected Rufus should have known better than that. Harry had proven that he can be just as, if not more, stubborn as he could be.

"He accused me of being _'Dumbledore's man through and through,'_" Harry informed him. Albus merely answered at how rude he was but what he said next stopped him dead. "I told him I was."

Albus had been about to speak again when his words got caught in his throat. He didn't react at all, but Fawkes let out his feelings in a single low, soft, musical cry. The conviction in Harry's voice moved him to tears—and he just didn't know how to respond to that. He had so much faith in him, despite everything he had done… especially last year.

Harry was looking away, as if he thinking he said something he shouldn't have and was looking away. Giving him enough time to compose himself, he was glad that his voice was steady as he said, "I am very touched, Harry."

That was an understatement. He just hoped that he live up to such confidence…

"Scrimgeour wanted to know where you go when you're not at Hogwarts," Harry informed him, looking at his own knees.

Feeling lighter than he had in a long time, he told him, "Yes, he is very nosy about that. He has even attempted to have me followed. Amusing, really," he added as he thought it all over, thinking of poor Dawlish. "He set Dawlish to tail me. It wasn't kind. I have already been forced to jinx Dawlish once; I did it again with the greatest regret."

"So they still don't know where you go?" Harry asked him, and Albus recognized that tone anywhere. Smiling at him over the top of his glasses, he gave him the same answer that he had given him before. Though he was looking a little disappointed, Albus then asked if there was anything else he wanted to say before they went on with the lesson.

"There is, actually, sir," Harry said at once, and then he went on to explain about how he overheard Severus attempting to help Draco with something important during Horace's party and everything they said.

Albus frowned. This he was deeply concerned with. Severus did mention to him that Draco seemed to blame him for his father being sent to Azkaban, but he didn't think that it would be this bad. When Harry finished, he was very quiet for a moment before he said, "Thank you for telling me this, Harry, but I suggest that you put it out of your mind. I do not think that it is of great importance."

He knew that Harry wouldn't like this one bit, and perhaps he should've worded it better. Harry has been known to be persistent and he was right. He was looking a little put out by this. "Not of great importance?" he repeated angrily, "Professor, did you understand —?"

"Yes, Harry, blessed as I am with extraordinary brainpower, I understood everything you told me," Albus said a little firmly, letting him know that he wasn't going to continue this. "I think you might even consider the possibility that I understood more than you did. Again, I am glad that you have confided in me, but let me reassure you that you have not told me anything that causes me disquiet."

This was true, he had things set up and planned out as best had he could. And he was trusting Severus to do his best to keep Draco out of trouble. However, he could tell that Harry wasn't the least bit happy about this. He just glared at him, not saying anything for a moment, and he could almost see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out what to say. "So, sir," said Harry, in a more calm tone, but he could still detected the slight anger in his voice here, "you definitely still trust —?"

"I have been tolerant enough to answer that question already," Albus said, much like how a parent would tell a child to stop misbehaving any further, "My answer has not changed."

He knew that most would see this as disrespectful, but Harry is perfectly allowed to question him. And just because he was the Headmaster, and an experienced Wizard does not mean that he won't make mistakes. And after all… he was still keeping some secrets from Harry. It is not unnatural for him to be curious and question him.

"I should think not," Phineas's was more than happy to share with them what he thought; but Albus ignored him as he turned back to Harry.

"And now, Harry, I must insist that we press on. I have more important things to discuss with you this evening," he answered him simply. Harry was never a good occlumens… or perhaps he was an extremely good Legilimens? Either way, he could tell that Harry was wondering if it would be worth it to just stubbornly kept arguing. Albus shook his head fondly.

"Ah, Harry, how often this happens, even between the best of friends!" he said almost cheerfully again. It really was tragic how things worked like this. "Each of us believes that what he has to say is much more important than anything the other might have to contribute!"

"I don't think what you've got to say is unimportant, sir," said Harry stiffly.

"Well, you are quite right, because it is not," Albus said in a more business-like tone. "I have two more memories to show you this evening, both obtained with enormous difficulty, and the second of them is, I think, the most important I have collected."

Harry didn't say anything else, and Albus knew that the only reason he wasn't arguing any further was because he knew there was no point.

"So," he said in a louder voice, "we meet this evening to continue the tale of Tom Riddle, whom we left last lesson poised on the threshold of his years at Hogwarts. You will remember how excited he was to hear that he was a wizard, that he refused my company on a trip to Diagon Alley, and that I, in turn, warned him against continued thievery when he arrived at school."

And when Harry nodded, he went on to explain how Tom first arrived at Hogwarts. How he had been sorted right into Slytherin House almost as soon as he sat at the sorting—how he had been a very talented and polite student—thirsty for knowledge and how everyone was so impressed with him.

"Didn't you tell them, sir, what he's been like when you met him at the orphanage?" Harry asked him.

"No, I did not," he answered truthfully, "Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance."

Now Albus had wished to give him a chance. He never knew that Tom would turn himself into Lord Voldemort. He had resources… but how could he have imagined that this would happen? He never expected Tom to have broken all bounds of evil and create a new definition of Dark Arts. He looked at Harry, wondering just what he was going to say to that. Harry opened his mouth, but then he froze, as if he remembered something.

"But… you didn't _really_ trust him, sir, did you?" he asked him, "He told me… the Riddle who came out of that diary said, _'Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did'_."

He always had his suspicions; especially after the Chamber of Secrets was opened. He knew for a fact that, Hagrid could not have done it. But, unfortunately there was no proof at the time. And Tom was careful never to drop any clues. He was an extremely gifted boy…

"Let us say that I did not take it for granted that he was trustworthy," he told Harry honestly. "I had, as I have already indicated, resolved to keep a close eye upon him, and so I did. I cannot pretend that I learned a great deal from my observations at first. He was very guarded with me; he felt, I am sure, that in the thrill of discovering his true identity he had told me a little too much."

He was sure that was why he never tried to win him over as he did to his other teachers. He had been a regular teacher's pet—truly a brilliant student and an expert in flattery.

"He was careful never to reveal as much again," he went on, "but he could not take back what he had let slip in his excitement, nor what Mrs. Cole had confided in me. However, he had the sense never to try and charm me as he charmed so many of my colleagues." He also explained to Harry how, even as a child, he had gathered group of students who were like his followers—more that than actual friends.

And these children became some of his first Death Eaters. He told Harry this that they had earned the reputation for their dark sides; how following Tom gave them an excuse to get away with cruelty and thuggish acts. Tom had them completely under his control, and he was clever enough to keep them from getting caught. Throughout his seven years, there had been several nasty incidents—which Albus knew they were involved in. How one of these incidents cost Myrtle's death and the Chamber of Secrets to open… resulting in Hagrid's expulsion.

"I have not been able to find many memories of Riddle at Hogwarts," he reminded Harry as he put his injured hand on the Pensieve and looked deeply into it. "Few who knew him then are prepared to talk about him; they are too terrified. What I know, I found out after he had left Hogwarts, after much painstaking effort, after tracing those few who could be tricked into speaking, after searching old records and questioning Muggle and wizard witnesses alike."

Harry looked like he wanted to say something and he explained with a little regret, "It involved a lot of effort, and not to mention, quite a few illegal spells and doings. But, obviously none of them was hurt in any manner whatsoever."

He wasn't proud about what he did, but he always made sure that the memories he did obtain didn't cause any of them suffering, though it was a small comfort. Harry looked surprised by this but Albus went on, not wishing to discuss it.

"Those whom I could persuade to talk told me that Riddle was obsessed with his parentage," he told him, "This is understandable, of course; he had grown up in an orphanage and naturally wished to know how he came to be there. It seems that he searched in vain for some trace of Tom Riddle senior on the shields in the trophy room, on the lists of prefects in the old school records, even in the books of Wizarding history. Finally he was forced to accept that his father had never set foot in Hogwarts. I believe that it was then that he dropped the name forever, assumed the identity of Lord Voldemort, and began his investigations into his previously despised mother's family — the woman whom, you will remember, he had thought could not be a witch if she had succumbed to the shameful human weakness of death."

Not that that was an excuse he told himself as Harry was now looking at the Pensieve curiously. After all, Harry didn't have his parents either and was actually fed lies about them by his own relatives, at least that's what Hagrid had told him when he went to pick him up. But, he turned out to be alright, even amazing…

And a part of him knew that Tom Riddle was much better treated at the orphanage than the treatment Harry received at home.

"All he had to go upon was the single name 'Marvolo,' which he knew from those who ran the orphanage had been his mother's father's name," Albus informed him, "Finally, after painstaking research, through old books of Wizarding families, he discovered the existence of Slytherin's surviving line. In the summer of his sixteenth year, he left the orphanage to which he returned annually and set off to find his Gaunt relatives. And now, Harry, if you will stand…"

They both came over to the Pensieve, and Albus poured the next memory inside it. "I was very lucky to collect this," he informed him. "As you will understand when we have experienced it. Shall we?"

He let Harry go through first but before he followed, Phineas sneered from his portrait, "You're letting that boy get away with too much you know! In my day I'd never allow someone to speak to me like that!"

"Maybe," Albus answered coolly, though he wasn't completely sure he knew to what he was answering to as he went into the memories as well. He landed besides Harry in the familiar Gaunt's House—looking very similar to how it looked when he visited it only a few short months ago.

The only light came from a single guttering candle placed at the feet were Morfin, whose hair and beard so overgrown that his whole head was hidden beneath it all. He was slumped in an armchair by the fire, and when a knock came, he jerked awake, pulling out his wand and familiar knife.

Looking grimly at the door, Albus watched as Tom entered, carrying a lantern to see by. He looked around the room and found Morfin.

"YOU!" he bellowed, holding up the wand and knife as he charged at him, ready to kill him. "YOU!"

_"Stop!"_ spoke Tom loudly in Parseltongue. At his tone, Morfin stopped dead and was staring at him, ignoring the moldy pots that he sent crashing to the floor. There was a long silence while they contemplated each other before Morfin spoke again.

Soon the two were having a long talk in Parseltongue. Here, Tom learned that Marvolo was dead and that Morfin thought that he was the Muggle that his sister ran off with and returned. And Voldemort finally got the confirmation that his father was a Muggle; the one thing that he must have willed hard to not happen.

Soon the memory faded—but it was different than how a memory normally came—the darkness fell and everything disappeared into the dark. Knowing that this was all that was to be seen here, Albus took Harry by the arm and took him back to his office, the warm light sparkled as his eyes got used to it.

"Is that all?" said Harry at once when Albus went to sit down. "Why did it go dark, what happened?"

"Because Morfin could not remember anything from that point onward," he answered as he gestured for Harry to take a seat. "When he awoke next morning, he was lying on the floor, quite alone. Marvolo's ring had gone. Meanwhile, in the village of Little Hangleton, a maid was running along the High Street, screaming that there were three bodies lying in the drawing room of the big house: Tom Riddle Senior and his mother and father."

He explained that Tom had actually killed his father and his grandparents before pinning the blame on Morfin. The Muggle authorities were baffled by their deaths, but the Ministry could tell that this was a murder with magic. And they knew that Morfin had attacked one of the murdered victims before, and had been known to hate Muggles.

This always saddened him… he always knew that Voldemort had a dark side… but this wasn't normal evil. He seems to have gone far beyond any explanation and definition of _normal_.

Albus also informed Harry that the Ministry felt no need to question him because Morfin admitted to the murders. He gave them details on how only the murderer would know on how he killed them. He claimed that he had been waiting for a chance to kill them and how, when he had his wand examined, it proved to be the same wand that killed them. But the only thing that bothered Morfin was that after he was taken to Azkaban, his ring was lost. He remembered those words very clearly:

_'He'll kill me for losing it! He'll kill me for losing his ring.' _

Those were the only words he ever said. He spent the last years of his life in that terrible place and was now buried outside the prison.

"So Voldemort stole Morfin's wand and used it?" said Harry, sitting up straight.

"That's right," Albus said with a nod. "We have no memories to show us this, but I think we can be fairly sure what happened."

He told him how he believed that Tom stunned his uncle before he stole his wand, and proceeded across the valley to the Muggle man who had abandoned his witch mother, and killed him along with his Muggle grandparents. Then he returned to the Gaunt hovel, performed the complex bit of magic that would implant a false memory in his uncle's mind, laid Morfin's wand beside its unconscious owner, and stole the ring before he left… it was disturbing to say the least—that a schoolboy planned and executed all of this so smoothly.

"And Morfin never realized he hadn't done it?" Harry asked him suddenly.

"Never," Albus said softly. "He gave, as I say, a full and boastful confession."

"But he had this real memory in him all the time!" Harry pointed out angrily.

"Yes, but it took a great deal of skilled Legilimency to coax it out of him," Albus confessed gently, "and why should anybody delve further into Morfin's mind when he had already confessed to the crime? However, I was able to secure a visit to Morfin in the last weeks of his life, by which time I was attempting to discover as much as I could about Voldemort's past. I extracted this memory with difficulty. When I saw what it contained, I attempted to use it to secure Morfin's release from Azkaban. Before the Ministry reached their decision, however, Morfin had died."

Again the Ministry acts a tad too late. Either they won't give someone a fair trial; or they don't bother to give him one at all.

"But how come the Ministry didn't realize that Voldemort had done all that to Morfin?" Harry asked angrily, and asked him about he was being underaged at the time—that they should've been able to realize that.

"You are quite right — they can detect magic, but not the perpetrator," Albus explained, "You will remember that you were blamed by the Ministry for the Hover Charm that was, in fact, cast by —"

"Dobby," Harry said in a growl, clearly still fuming about that. "So if you're underage and you do magic inside an adult or wizard's house, the Ministry won't know?"

"They will certainly be unable to tell who performed the magic," he answered, and was actually smiling slightly at the look of great indignation on Harry's face. "They rely on witch and wizard parents to enforce their offspring's obedience while within their walls."

"Well, that's rubbish," snapped Harry. "Look what happened here, look what happened to Morfin!"

"I agree," Albus said, smiling a little wider at that, glad that there was someone else who agreed with him on this. "Whatever Morfin was, he did not deserve to die as he did, blamed for murders he had not committed. But it is getting late, and I want you to see this other memory before we part."

And so Albus pulled out the memory that had puzzled him unlike any of the others, yet also the most important one of them all. He poured it into the Pensieve, and it took a usually long time to do so.

"This will not take long," he said, "We shall be back before you know it. Once more into the Pensieve, then…"

And soon, the two of them were standing in the office of a much younger Horace Slughorn—though he looked a little odd to see him with his thick straw-colored hair as he went digging through a box of crystallized pineapple. Half a dozen boys were sitting around Slughorn, all on harder or lower seats than his, and all in their mid-teens. Tom was in one of the armchairs, and he was wearing Marvolo's ring. Albus shook his head softly, even before he left school, he had committed murder.

"Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?" Tom asked.

"Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you," said Horace with a wink as he wagged a reproving, sugar-covered finger at Riddle. "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are."

Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.

"What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter — thank you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favorite —" Horace said before the room filled up with fog so that nothing could be seen but Harry standing beside him. Horace's voice then rang out, "You'll go wrong, boy, mark my words."

Suddenly the fog cleared and Harry was staring around him, trying to figure out what happened. Albus didn't say a word as the clock chimed eleven and Horace was now telling the boys it was time to leave.

But as the boys all piled out of the room, Tom stayed and waited patiently by the door to speak with Horace.

"Look sharp, Tom," Horace said once he realized that he was still here, "You don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect…"

"Sir, I wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away…"

"Sir, I wondered what you know about… about Horcruxes?" Tom asked. And at those words, the fog filled up the room again. Harry looked questionably up at him, but he merely smiled back as Horace's voice echoed around them that he didn't know anything about Horcruxes and that he wouldn't tell him even if he knew. With all that was to be seen, Albus told him that it was time to return.

"That's all there is?" said Harry blankly, after they arrived back in his office and he nodded.

"As you might have noticed," he said, reseating himself behind his desk, "that memory has been tampered with."

"Tampered with?" repeated Harry in confusion after he sat down as well.

"Certainly," he answered. "Professor Slughorn has meddled with his own recollections."

"But…" Harry said, not understanding, "why would he do that?"

"Because, I think, he is ashamed of what he remembers," Albus answered. "He has tried to rework the memory to show himself in a better light, obliterating those parts which he does not wish me to see. It is, as you will have noticed, very crudely done, and that is all to the good, for it shows that the true memory is still there beneath the alterations."

If not, then they might never know what Tom had learned then. And so, he gave Harry homework, telling him that he needed to get the real memory from Horace. He knew Harry would do a better job of extracting the memories. Being a student, he had benefits of trust. And it wouldn't be too easy to _trick_ Slughorn.

Harry stared at him. "But surely, sir," he said, his tone suggesting that he thought that he was losing his mind trusting him with something like this, "you don't need me — you could use Legilimency… or Veritaserum…"

"Professor Slughorn is an extremely able wizard who will be expecting both," he informed him calmly. "He is much more accomplished at Occlumency than poor Morfin Gaunt, and I would be astonished if he has not carried an antidote to Veritaserum with him ever since I coerced him into giving me this travesty of a recollection."

Yes, he knew that it wouldn't be easy, but Harry had a much better chance at getting it out of Horace than he did. He told Harry as much. He didn't wish for Horace to leave, and he truly believed that Harry could be the only one who would be able to get through to him. Looking taken aback, Harry quickly left the room, muttering a hurried good night.

But as the door closed, Phineas called out, "I can't see why the boy should be able to do it better than you, Dumbledore."

"I wouldn't expect you to, Phineas," he answered as Fawkes let out another song.

"But how do you expect for the boy to do it?" Dilys asked, now all of them waking up with Harry gone. "If you can't…?"

"Like I said, I don't believe that force is the right way," he answered, "You see, Horace was very fond of Lily. I don't think that he could ever have refused her anything if she asked… and with her son so much like her, I hope that Harry will have that same effect on him. Horace is ashamed by whatever he told Tom that night, and he does his best to forget it. But… it's all in the asking… that is the trick to it all."

*A few weeks later*

Albus was walking with Severus across the empty castle grounds during twilight. Severus had informed him a little more on Voldemort's plans and how things were not going well. Nothing that Albus wanted to hear. Apparently Voldemort had given Draco until the end of this semester to kill him… or else.

"And is there nothing that can be done about it?" he asked him softly.

"No," Severus answered him coldly, "The Dark Lord is losing patience. He made it clear that he needs to hurry and kill you or die trying. Either way… he doesn't care about the outcome."

Albus shook his head, feeling nothing but pity and sorrow for young Draco. Though he knew that this was the price that the young man had to pay for his actions, he prayed that there was some way that he can escape from Voldemort's web before he gets trapped too deeply in. But Severus had another question on his mind.

"What are you doing with Potter, all these evenings you are closeted together?" he asked suddenly.

Albus sighed wearily as he looked over at him. He was tired… he didn't know what else he wanted him to do… there was a war going on and he wanted to ask him what he was teaching Harry. "Why?" he asked, "You aren't trying to give him _more_ detentions, Severus? The boy will soon have spent more time in detention than out."

"He is his father over again – " Severus stated heatedly.

"In looks, perhaps, but his deepest nature is much more like his mother's," Albus told him for the millionth time. He knew that trying to get him to change his mind about Harry was a lost cause, but this had become their favorite argument. "I spend time with Harry because I have things to discuss with him, information I must give him before it is too late."

"Information," repeated Severus enigmatically. "You trust him… you do not trust me."

"It is not a question of trust. I have, as we both know, limited time," Albus reminded him firmly. Arguing with Severus sounded a great deal like how he argued with Harry about trust. "It is essential that I give the boy enough information for him to do what he needs to do."

"And why may I not have the same information?" Severus demanded.

"I prefer not to put all of my secrets in one basket, particularly not a basket that spends so much time dangling on the arm of Lord Voldemort," Albus reminded him softly.

Severus looked outraged. "Which I do on your orders!"

"And you do it extremely well," he confided in him, "Do not think that I underestimate the constant danger in which you place yourself, Severus. To give Voldemort what appears to be valuable information while withholding the essentials is a job I would entrust to nobody but you."

"Yet you confide much more in a boy who is incapable of Occlumency, whose magic is mediocre, and who has a direct connection into the Dark Lord's mind!" Severus hissed back.

He had a feeling that Severus would start with that. Though he knew that Harry wasn't talented at Occlumency, Severus was wrong. "Voldemort fears that connection," he explained. "Not so long ago he had one small taste of what truly sharing Harry's mind means to him. It was pain such as he has never experienced. He will not try to possess Harry again, I am sure of it. Not in that way."

"I don't understand," Severus stated, his eyebrows rising high.

"Lord Voldemort's soul, maimed as it is, cannot bear close contact with a soul like Harry's," he answered, almost to himself. Because inside Harry's mind was something that Voldemort couldn't bear to touch. Something pure and good… something that was the direct opposite of everything Voldemort represented, "Like a tongue on frozen steel, like flesh in flame – "

"Souls? We were talking of minds!" Severus snapped.

He looked back to the Potion's Master and told him, "In the case of Harry and Lord Voldemort, to speak of one is to speak of the other." After glancing around to make sure that they were completely alone, close near the Forbidden Forest, he began, "After you have killed me, Severus – "

"You refuse to tell me everything, yet you expect that small service of me!" Severus shot back as anger came to his face, and Albus knew that he was reaching his breaking point. "You take a great deal for granted, Dumbledore! Perhaps I have changed my mind!"

"You gave me your word, Severus," he reminded firmly, "And while we are talking about services you owe me, I thought you agreed to keep a close eye on our young Slytherin friend?"

Severus looked angry, mutinous, and Albus sighed at this—knowing that there was only one way to pacify him—though he also knew that this was something he was going to regret. He knew that he had to tell someone else about this… "Come to my office tonight, Severus, at eleven, and you shall not complain that I have no confidence in you…" he told him softly.

Severus looked surprised by that, but still angry as Albus turned and headed back to the castle on his own. He knew what he was going to ask him, but it was still going to be one of the most painful experiences he would ever have to do.

***Later***

Albus sat there in his office. He knew that, when he told Severus what he was to tell Harry, about him being a Horcrux, Harry would come to resent him, hate him for what he had planned. Even would come to hate him. But he knew that he didn't deserve any less.

He had set him up… for his death. Of course he would hate him. Their relationship had been rocky ever since last year… which had been his own fault he knew. Rather than come out and tell Harry everything, he kept it quiet, trying to give the boy more time without having to worry. But in the end, it only hurt him more.

But this? He knew that he would never forgive him for this and neither should he. All that he had done was sentence him to the life of a murderer or to be murdered, and then set him on a journey in which he had to destroy Voldemort by sacrificing himself first.

Of course, his biggest hope was that he knew there was a chance that Harry would survive, but that didn't mean it wouldn't stop Harry's hurt, the betrayal he would feel, and he wouldn't even be around to explain why it had to be. He felt so selfish for just thinking about it, yet he couldn't help but be glad that he would soon die and be saved from the job of explaining it to him face-to-face. That he would not have to be here to witness Harry's reaction to what he would learn about the seventh Horcrux. At least, not in person…

He had taken so much from him. His childhood… his godfather… his dreams… his future… and now… his life.

There would be no other reaction deserved towards him other than loathing. It no longer mattered how he felt about the boy—it could never make up for what he was planning. The pain that was going to be caused…? He didn't deserve forgiveness… not from anybody.

"Harry must not know, not until the last moment, not until it is necessary, otherwise how could he have the strength to do what must be done?" he said softly to himself, hiding his face behind his hands as Severus paced the room in an impatient way.

"But what must he do?" Severus questioned in annoyance.

"That is between Harry and me," he answered a little coldly, "Now, listen closely, Severus. There will come a time – after my death – do not argue, do not interrupt!" he added when he saw Severus's mouth open angrily. This was already hard enough, and he didn't want to be stopped, "There will be a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake."

"For Nagini?" Severus sounded startled.

"Precisely," he said firmly, "If there comes a time when Lord Voldemort stops sending that snake forth to do his bidding, but keeps it safe beside him, under magical protection, then, I think, it will be safe to tell Harry."

"Tell him what?" Severus asked, his anger slowly fading as he wondered just what it was he was trying to say. Albus took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It took an enormous amount of effort to continue.

"Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort's soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself on to the only living soul left in that collapsing building," he said, his heart sinking fast at those words, feeling sick of himself at speaking it out loud.

"Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to, and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die," he finished, and it was as if his own heart was being torn to pieces. There was a pause, in which he breathed deeply, trying to control the emotions raging inside, the ones that conflicted with the choice fiercely, and what he knew what had to be done.

Severus, still in shock, clarified calmly, "So the boy… the boy must die?"

Those words were some that he never wanted to hear—that he wished he never had to be true. "And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus," he confirmed, hardly knowing what he was saying anymore. "That is essential."

Of all the fatal mistakes that Voldemort has made in his obsessive quest for immortality, Albus wanted to believe that taking Harry's blood was the most foolish of them all. It is the blood that runs through Voldemort's veins, Harry's blood, which will enable him to be able to destroy Voldemort but still survive in the end.

Voldemort has Harry's protection in his blood, but he also has something else in his veins that runs through Harry's, and that is love. Voldemort cannot even bear to come in contact with this powerful force. His Horcruxes will keep him alive, keep him tied to this earth, but once the Horcruxes are destroyed - that's it for Voldemort. Whether Harry will survive or not is beyond his knowledge. However when the destruction of the last bit of Voldemort in Harry takes place, it will be all that is needed to destroy Tom.

If Harry does defeat the Dark Lord, it is Voldemort's fault that he will do so. Voldemort has set all of these events into motion through his blind ambition for immortality. Voldemort is blind to the pain and destruction that he has caused to so many others. How fitting it is that he has been blind to the pain and destruction that he has brought upon himself. He has created a seventh Horcrux, which is the tool that will make his greatest fear, and the thing he will stop at nothing to avoid, come to pass… his own death.

Another long silence before Severus choked out, "I thought… all these years… that we were protecting him for her. For Lily."

Albus always knew that, for all these years, Severus had helped to protect Harry merely for that reason. He closed his eyes, and answered him, fighting back the misery, "We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength. Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth: sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself."

This was all true. Slowly but surely, that piece of Voldemort's soul had taken root inside Harry's soul. But the light in that boy had been holding that darkness at bay. Harry had no idea to what it was inside him, but he wondered if he did know… deep down inside. But the Harry he knew wouldn't back down if he knew what he had to do. "If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will, truly, mean the end of Voldemort."

Finally opening his eyes, Severus was staring horrified at him. "You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?" he questioned harshly. Even the portraits on the walls were all staring at him, as if they couldn't believe what they were hearing.

Albus didn't show any emotion, but those words hurt worse than a knife to him. Yes, it did seem that way…

"Don't be shocked, Severus," he said softly, "How many men and women have you watched die?"

He knew that his words were harsh, but he couldn't help himself. He knew that he should be blamed for all this, but he just couldn't take hearing the implication that he didn't care at all for Harry. Did Severus honestly think that this was easy for him to just _know_ about it? If he could go back in time and stop this from ever happening, he would. He would've warned James and Lily about Pettigrew's betrayal… that they'd both still be alive and Sirius would be free…

How he wished that he could've stopped that Halloween night from ever happening—but he knew that he couldn't. He knew how much suffering Harry had gone through in his life. That the only year of true happiness he had was when he was an infant and with his parents; but then those ten miserable years of neglect and abuse… to these last six years of hardships at a place that was supposed to be safe for him…

"Lately, only those whom I cannot save," Severus spoke up again before he stood up in fury. "You have used me."

Albus knew what he was speaking about, but he asked anyway, "Meaning?"

Severus's voice was cold, as he ranted, "I have spied for you, and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter – "

"But this is touching, Severus," he said with a serious tone, but he couldn't stand what Severus was saying—even if parts of it were true. "Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?" he asked.

This he knew was far from true, despite all that he had hoped. Severus couldn't stand Harry because of his parents. Harry was a living reminder of what he lost. Lily's child… proof that she loved someone else. And Severus blamed the boy for everything that had gone wrong with his life. Though it sadden him greatly, in Severus's eyes… it was almost as if he believed that if Harry never existed, then he could've ended up with Lily. To the Potion's Master—he was James.

But Albus and the other teachers all knew better. They learned from day one that though Harry looked just like James—and inherited his talent for breaking rules—he was truly his _mother's_ son. James had always been mischievous and ready to pull a prank… but Harry wasn't like that. He was always a very solemn child with a lack of confidence, especially during his first few years here.

"For _him?_" Severus demanded before he cast his Patronus… a beautiful doe soared out of his wand and bounded softly around the room before it danced out the window.

Albus gazed at it forlornly, realizing, truly, just how much Severus had loved her. His Patronus had remained true to her, just as he had. He turned back to him to see the tears that were in his black eyes.

"After all this time?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Always," he answered back softly.

Albus stared at him sadly. "Does Harry truly mean so little you?" he asked quietly.

"I could ask you the same thing," Severus retorted and Albus looked away, tears in his own eyes. "The way you always took his side…" Severus went on, "I was under the impression that you cared deeply for him, not that I can understand why you would."

"Don't you dare say that again," Albus said quietly, unconsciously touching his burnt hand. "You think I wanted it this way? Don't you realize how much I wish I can stop it?"

"If you care so much, why do this?" Severus demanded.

Albus looked up at him, trying to find the words to explain it. He knew that he had made a lot of mistakes in his long lifetime. After he lost his sister, he swore that he wouldn't let anything like that happen again. He came here to Hogwarts—in truth, he ran away here because he felt safe. He didn't trust himself with power. Even after he was made Headmaster, he feared the thought of becoming too powerful again. He had seen what power can do to him, and never wanted to go near it again. That was why he always refused the offers to become Minister even though a part of him was sorely tempted to.

Would it have been possible that he would have become like Cornelius? So obsessed with power and desperate to cling to it he would've been just as paranoid and power-hungry as he was? The thought scared him out of his mind.

He knew that he had always been selfish… it was true. He hadn't learned a thing since he was a child—in many ways, he was still that young man whose little brother was so much wiser than him. He loved Aberforth and Ariana of course… just as he loved his mother and father… but he was egotistic.

It was a hard lesson he learned long ago… you _can't_ have everything.

He admitted that he cared for Harry… much more than he should. Probably more than a headmaster/student relationship, and yet he couldn't help it. He had watched him grow up and soon became fascinated as well as amazed. The words he spoke to him last year were all still true. More than anything else, he feared Harry's reaction when he learned the truth.

But what he said just a few weeks ago…?

Those words meant more to him than anything else. More than he could ever deserve. He was desperately clinging to the hope that his theory was right. That Harry would not die… and that when this war ended, Harry would live on to lead a full and happy life. He knew that he couldn't forgive him for this, but that he would learn to forget about him.

Severus was right. He _had_ used them… he knew that nothing he said could excuse him for his actions, but what else could he do? For some reason, he remembered reading the Muggle book 'The Wizard of Oz'… possibly one of his most favorite books of all time given how incorrect that everything was in it. But he felt himself sympathizing with the characters in it more than ever.

Harry survived because of his mother's love and definitely loves his friends while Dorothy definitely loves all her family and her friends that she met in Oz. Love was ultimately the thing that got her back home. Harry against Voldemort and Dorothy against the Wicked Witch… the similarity here is quite strong. Harry cannot be touched by Lord Voldemort because his mother died for him, protecting him. Dorothy cannot be touched by the Wicked Witch because Glinda protected Dorothy. The only difference here is who supplied the protection.

He, himself, was acting like the man behind the curtain… the one behind everything and controlling the others.

The whole time he was lost in thought, Severus was looking at him. Sighing, he turned back to face him, not trying to hide the tears in his own eyes. "Because this is the truth," he answered him simply. "The fact breaks my heart more than you know. But what else can I do?"

The stood there like that for a long time.

"Is there nothing that can be done?" Severus asked softly.

Albus retreated to his seat and sat back. "I don't know," he confessed. "I truly don't know…"

*Just a few days later*

What if all this, everything they've done, is all for naught? What if everything they had worked so hard to achieve, to prevent, doesn't mean a thing? These dark thoughts had been haunting his mind for some time now. These days it felt like he was running around in circles in the dark to find the answers he already knew.

But now _this_ happened.

He knew from the beginning about the Malfoy boy and the choice he would have to make. He knew that he would join Voldemort, but why? Could it be because he wishes to avenge his father's imprisonment? Or could it be simply because he was too naïve to determine his fate for himself?

He knew that Voldemort would want someone as young as Draco in his ranks because he would be at Hogwarts. Ready to send back any information he heard there. But now…? Did Voldemort honestly believe that he could force a boy to commit murder at sixteen? While Tom had proven that he could do such a thing here, Draco wasn't anything like that.

Harry retold the story of what happened to both him, Minerva, Madam Pomfrey, and he was sure he was now telling his friends this.

He told him that they had gone to see Horace and when he offered them a little bit of mead, Ron stopped breathing. There was poison in the drink, and he could thank the heavens that Harry thought of the bezoar while Horace went for help. It was a great relief to know that Ron was now being treated and doing well.

After speaking with the Weasleys, and assuring them both that their son would make a full recovery, he met with Severus who delivered the grim news.

"It was poison all right," Severus told him bluntly, "A quick-acting poison. Crude, but effective. The Weasley boy is lucky to have survived it. The bezoar shoved down his throat did the trick, but I'm afraid there's still poison in his system. And that will take some more time of taking the antidote before it's completely cleared up.

"Though I'm afraid to ask, do you know who it was who is responsible?" Albus asked him, already knowing the answer.

Severus didn't say anything for a moment. "Draco…" he confessed, "I know he is behind it. Though I am not sure I know how."

Albus sighed. "So that mead was meant for me?" he asked.

"Horace did say that he had been planning to give it to you for Christmas," Severus answered.

"Then Draco should've known better," Albus sighed. "Horace was sure to keep something like that for himself. Two students were almost killed here. We have got to do something about it."

"I'm keeping as close an eye on him as I can," Severus said stiffly. "But if I look any closer, I will be following him around everywhere. There are some moments that seem as if he just disappears and no matter what I do, he just doesn't seem to want my help."

"I trust you, Severus," Albus answered softly as he looked to his hand again. "But my time is almost up isn't it? The pain has become more severe for the last few weeks."

"Yes," Severus admitted, also glancing at it, "A couple more months perhaps? Either way, you're almost out of time."

Albus sighed, but not the least bit surprised. "Thank you, Severus," he confessed and allowed him to leave. He leaned back in his chair, feeling more tired than ever before. If his hand didn't kill him, his lack of sleep would.

"Albus?" asked Dilys softly, "Are you really going to die?"

He smiled wearily. "Yes, Dilys. I am afraid so," he said opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling. "I have no complaints about it. While it is not how I had planned on dying… it _is_ to be my fate."

He smiled before he forced his aching body to get back up and head to bed. He was determined to get a few hours of sleep in before he left to search the countryside again.

*A couple more weeks later*

This was not what he wanted to deal with. He had only returned to the castle last night and spent most of the day sleeping. Just when he was starting to feel back to normal, and getting ready for the lesson with Harry, Sybill came bursting into his office, smelling of Sherry and demanding to talk.

She had come asking that he would find a way to remove Firenze. While she was grateful to him for filling in her post last year, she wanted to know why he couldn't go back to the forest. Albus had a strong feeling that she had a little too much to drink this evening.

Albus tried again and again to tell her that of course he would let Firenze go back to the forest if he could, but now, the rest of his heard made it clear that they didn't want anything more to do with him and going back could get him killed. It turned into an argument and Albus was growing more tired with every word spoken. Finally, as it neared eight, he had asked her to leave and that they would talk about it another time.

But this didn't seem to work because she seemed like she couldn't care less even if it was the Minister of Magic coming as she continued to argue. Thankfully there was a knock at the door that caused her to stop talking.

"Enter," he called, but Sybill went marching to the door herself and threw it open to see Harry.

"Aha!" she cried, pointing dramatically at Harry as she blinked at him through her magnifying spectacles. "So _this_ is the reason I am to be thrown unceremoniously from your office, Dumbledore!" she yelled back at him.

"My dear Sybill," Albus said exasperated, "there is no question of throwing you unceremoniously from anywhere, but Harry does have an appointment, and I really don't think there is any more to be said —"

"Very well," she interrupted, in a deeply wounded voice. "If you will not banish the usurping nag, so be it. Perhaps I shall find a school where my talents are better appreciated."

But he wasn't worried. He knew that her threat was empty—she wouldn't leave the castle that easily, but he hoped that she wouldn't give it much thought. He made a mental note to send a house-elf to check on her later tonight. Sybill walked passed Harry and went down the stairs with Harry watching.

"Please close the door and sit down, Harry," he said, his feelings of exhaustion back in full swing. He leaned back, wishing that he could fall asleep more than ever as Harry closed the door and walked over to take his seat.

"Professor Trelawney still isn't happy Firenze is teaching, then?" Harry asked him inquisitively.

"No," Albus said wearily, "Divination is turning out to be much more trouble than I could have foreseen, never having studied the subject myself."

He smiled a little at the joke before he went on, "I cannot ask Firenze to return to the forest, where he is now an outcast, nor can I ask Sybill Trelawney to leave. Between ourselves, she has no idea of the danger she would be in outside the castle. She does not know — and I think it would be unwise to enlighten her — that she made the prophecy about you and Voldemort, you see."

If word got out about that, it would only put her in even more danger than ever before. If she learned that she had made that prophecy, he knew that she would never be able to keep something like that to herself. But returning to the matter at hand, he heaved a deep sigh and asked Harry if he had managed to retrieve the memory.

"Ah," said Harry, and at that, he could tell that he didn't. "Well, I asked Professor Slughorn about it at the end of Potions, sir, but, er, he wouldn't give it to me."

There was a little silence. "I see," he said, giving him an emotionless look over the top of his glasses. "And you feel that you have exerted your very best efforts in this matter, do you? That you have exercised all of your considerable ingenuity? That you have left no depth of cunning unplumbed in your quest to retrieve the memory?"

"Well," Harry said, and he knew that he was stalling as he tried to find something to say. He then explained that he had tried to get Horace into a good enough mood when they went to see him the day that Ron had swallowed love potion by mistake…

"And did that work?" he asked.

"Well, no, sir, because Ron got poisoned —"

"— which, naturally, made you forget all about trying to retrieve the memory," he nodded in understanding, "I would have expected nothing else, while your best friend was in danger. Once it became clear that Mr. Weasley was going to make a full recovery, however, I would have hoped that you returned to the task I set you. I thought I made it clear to you how very important that memory is. Indeed, I did my best to impress upon you that it is the most crucial memory of all and that we will be wasting our time without it."

Harry looked away shamefully. Once again, Albus was struck by amazement at how disappointment always seemed to have a bigger effect over shouting.

"Sir," he spoke up, a little desperately, "it isn't that I wasn't bothered or anything, I've just had other — other things…"

"Other things on your mind," he finished the sentence for him. "I see."

Silence fell between them again, the most uncomfortable silence between them—including the one last year when he had told him about the prophecy. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't really noticed it then however.

He didn't say anything, waiting for Harry to say something. Finally, Harry seemed to have had enough and apologized, saying that he should've done more.

"Thank you for saying that, Harry," he told him quietly. "May I hope, then, that you will give this matter higher priority from now on? There will be little point in our meeting after tonight unless we have that memory."

"I'll do it, sir, I'll get it from him," he said earnestly.

"Then we shall say no more about it just now," he said kindly. This will make Harry work faster. Maybe it will also act to reduce his 'Malfoy-Obsession'. "But continue with our story where we left off. You remember where that was?"

"Yes, sir," he said quickly and recited what they learned last time, and looked ashamed once again when he mentioned the part where Tom asked Horace about the Horcruxes.

"Very good," Albus said. "Now, you will remember, I hope, that I told you at the very outset of these meetings of ours that we would be entering the realms of guesswork and speculation?"

It might be guesswork and speculation but his guesses do not differ much from the truth, if at all. But, in case of Tom Riddle, he was almost sure that his deductions won't be far off from the truth.

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"Thus far, as I hope you agree, I have shown you reasonably firm sources of fact for my deductions as to what Voldemort did until the age of seventeen?" Albus asked and when he nodded, he went on. "But now, Harry, now things become murkier and stranger. If it was difficult to find evidence about the boy Riddle, it has been almost impossible to find anyone prepared to reminisce about the man Voldemort. In fact, I doubt whether there is a soul alive, apart from himself, who could give us a full account of his life since he left Hogwarts. However, I have two last memories that I would like to share with you."

He jerked his head to the two last bottles of memories and finished, "I shall then be glad of your opinion as to whether the conclusions I have drawn from them seem likely."

He noticed that Harry shifted guiltily in his seat as he took one of the bottles but he pretended he didn't see this as he picked poured it in. "I hope you are not tired of diving into other people's memories, for they are curious recollections," he said, trying to make him feel a little better. "This first one came from a very old house-elf by the name of Hokey. Before we see what Hokey witnessed, I must quickly recount how Lord Voldemort left Hogwarts."

He also explained that, out of everything, he chose to work at Borgin and Burkes.

"At Borgin and Burkes?" Harry repeated in a stunned voice.

"At Borgin and Burkes," he confirmed calmly. "I think you will see what attractions the place held for him when we have entered Hokey's memory. But this was not Voldemort's first choice of job. Hardly anyone knew of it at the time — I was one of the few in whom the then headmaster confided — but Voldemort first approached Professor Dippet and asked whether he could remain at Hogwarts as a teacher."

"He wanted to stay here? Why?" Harry asked startled.

Albus gave him a soft look. "I believe he had several reasons, though he confided none of them to Professor Dippet. Firstly, and very importantly, Voldemort was, I believe, more attached to this school than he has ever been to a person. Hogwarts was where he had been happiest; the first and only place he had felt at home."

He could see that Harry was looking uncomfortable at these words. And he could understand… Hogwarts truly was a special place where even misfits and outcasts can find home. This place had been his own home for most of his lifetime after all and he could never imagine another place he would rather be.

"Secondly, the castle is a stronghold of ancient magic," he went on, "Undoubtedly Voldemort had penetrated many more of its secrets than most of the students who pass through the place, but he may have felt that there were still mysteries to unravel, stores of magic to tap."

Especially since his discovery of the Chamber of Secrets; it worried him greatly just what else Tom had learned of this place.

"And thirdly, as a teacher, he would have had great power and influence over young witches and wizards," he finished, and that frightened him most of all. "Perhaps he had gained the idea from Professor Slughorn, the teacher with whom he was on best terms, who had demonstrated how influential a role a teacher can play. I do not imagine for an instant that Voldemort envisaged spending the rest of his life at Hogwarts, but I do think that he saw it as a useful recruiting ground, and a place where he might begin to build himself an army."

No, and he thanked whatever deity out there that Armando agreed that Tom was too young to teach.

"But he didn't get the job, sir?" Harry asked.

"No, he did not," he reassured him, grateful for small miracles, "Professor Dippet told him that he was too young at eighteen, but invited him to reapply in a few years, if he still wished to teach."

"How did you feel about that, sir?" asked Harry hesitantly.

"Deeply uneasy," he answered truthfully. "I had advised Armando against the appointment— I did not give the reasons I have given you, for Professor Dippet was very fond of Voldemort and convinced of his honesty. But I did not want Lord Voldemort back at this school, and especially not in a position of power."

Nobody would wish for that.

"Which job did he want, sir?" Harry asked, but judging from the look on his face, he had already guessed the answer, "What subject did he want to teach?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," he told him and he didn't seem at all surprised, "It was being taught at the time by an old Professor by the name of Galatea Merrythought, who had been at Hogwarts for nearly fifty years."

The position was not cursed at that time. At first, he thought that it was a sort of superstition. But, the record has now become staggering. None of the Defense teachers had stayed for more than one term. Except Quirrell. And as he was harboring Voldemort, it does not hold much merit.

"So Voldemort went off to Borgin and Burkes, and all the staff who had admired him said what a waste it was, a brilliant young wizard like that, working in a shop," he explained. He then told him about how Voldemort had been given particular jobs to try and persuade people to part with their treasures. And how he _unusually_ gifted at doing this.

"I'll bet he was," Harry added.

"Well, quite," he told him, another smile on his face. "And now it is time to hear from Hokey the house-elf, who worked for a very old, very rich witch by the name of Hepzibah Smith."

And soon, the two of them went back through the memories into the home of Hepzibah Smith. At the moment, she was looking into a small mirror and adding a touch of rouge to her face while Hokey the house-elf came over to lace up her slippers.

"Hurry up, Hokey!" she commanded, as if she were a queen on a throne, "He said he'd come at four, it's only a couple of minutes to and he's never been late yet!"

She tucked away her powder puff as the house-elf straightened up as Hepzibah asked how she looked while she looked at her face in the mirror.

"Lovely, madam," squeaked Hokey. Albus was a little amused at that. As if she will… can say otherwise. Hepzibah should have asked someone else for a more honest reply.

A tinkling doorbell rang and caused them both to jump. She then ordered Hokey to get the door, making her way through the all the treasures that were stacked everywhere. Hokey came back a few minutes later with Tom… looking as handsome as he ever did.

'_Perfect mannerism,' _he thought as he watched him kiss Hepzibah's hand. No doubt he won people over. And it must have flattered her to no end. It is easy to work around people, who are always eager for praises… even if they are fake.

"I brought you flowers," he said quietly, producing a bunch of roses from nowhere.

"You naughty boy, you shouldn't have!" she cooed, though it was hard to notice the empty vase sitting nearby on a table. "You do spoil this old lady, Tom. Sit down, sit down… Where's Hokey? Ah…"

Hokey came back and Hepzibah offered Tom some cakes and commented on just how pale he was looking. But Albus knew better. His paleness is for an entirely different reason besides work.

"Well, what's your excuse for visiting this time?" she asked, battering her lashes.

"Mr. Burke would like to make an improved offer for the goblin-made armor," he told her. "Five hundred Galleons, he feels it is a more than fair —"

"Now, now, not so fast, or I'll think you're only here for my trinkets!" she pouted back and Albus fought a sigh. He was… she was too trusting. Not that he blamed her… better wizards have easily been hoodwinked by Voldemort.

"I am ordered here because of them," he said with quiet politeness. "I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told. Mr. Burke wishes me to inquire —"

"Oh, Mr. Burke, phooey!" said Hepzibah, waving a little hand. "I've something to show you that I've never shown Mr. Burke! Can you keep a secret, Tom? Will you promise you won't tell Mr. Burke I've got it? He'd never let me rest if he knew I'd shown it to you, and I'm not selling, not to Burke, not to anyone! But you, Tom, you'll appreciate it for its history, not how many Galleons you can get for it."

In the end, he and Harry watched Hokey bring back two boxes that held the Hepzibah's treasures. First was the Cup that belonged to Helga Hufflepuff and the locket that had belonged to Salazar Slytherin… as well as Tom's own mother. As the locket was taken away from him, Albus saw, for a fraction of a moment, Tom's eyes shown red.

Hepzibah looked Tom full in the face and frowned a little. "Are you all right, dear?"

"Oh yes," Tom lied. "Yes, I'm very well…"

"I thought — but a trick of the light, I suppose —" she said, looking a little intimidated by the brief red gleam in Tom's eyes.

"Time to leave, Harry," he told Harry quietly as they watched the elf take the boxes away. When they were back in the office, Albus explained that Hepzibah Smith died a mere two days after that; and how Hokey was convicted by the Ministry of poisoning the tea by accident. Again an innocent is accused, this time an old house-elf, who was always faithful to her Mistress.

"No way!" said Harry angrily.

"I see we are of one mind," Albus stated. "Certainly, then are many similarities between this death and that of the Riddles. In both cases, somebody else took the blame, someone who had a clear memory of having caused the death —"

"Hokey confessed?" Harry interrupted, unable to help himself.

"She remembered putting something in her mistress's cocoa that turned out not to be sugar, but a lethal and little-known poison," he told him. "It was concluded that she had not meant to do it, but being old and confused —"

But Harry had already figured it out. "Voldemort modified her memory, just like he did with Morfin!"

"Yes, that is my conclusion too," he agreed. "And, just as with Morfin, the Ministry was predisposed to suspect Hokey —"

"— because she was a house-elf," Harry finished, sounding bitter.

"Precisely," Albus sighed. "She was old, she admitted to having tampered with the drink, and nobody at the Ministry bothered to inquire further. As in the case of Morfin, by the time I traced her and managed to extract this memory, her life was almost over — but her memory, of course, proves nothing except that Voldemort knew of the existence of the cup and the locket." He also told him about how that by the time Hokey was convicted the cup and locket had gone missing. Not long after that, Tom had left the shop and disappeared… and for many years, he was not seen or heard from by anyone.

"Now," he went on, "if you don't mind, Harry, I want to pause once more to draw your attention to certain points of our story. Voldemort had committed another murder; whether it was his first since he killed the Riddles, I do not know, but I think it was. This time, as you will have seen, he killed not for revenge, but for gain. He wanted the two fabulous trophies that poor, besotted, old woman showed him. Just as he had once robbed the other children at his orphanage, just as he had stolen his Uncle Morfin's ring, so he ran off now with Hepzibah's cup and locket."

"But," Harry interrupted again, now frowning in disbelief, "it seems mad. Risking everything, throwing away his job, just for those…"

"Mad to you, perhaps, but not to Voldemort," Albus reminded him softly. "I hope you will understand in due course exactly what those objects meant to him, Harry, but you must admit that it is not difficult to imagine that he saw the locket, at least, as rightfully his."

"The locket maybe," said Harry with a shrug. "But why take the cup as well?"

Albus told him about how it had also belonged to another of Hogwarts's founders. And he strongly believed that Tom never would've let something like that slip away when he took it as well. He suddenly felt weary to the bone about everything he had told him. But there was still one last memory for them to see. It was ten years after that last memory had happened.

"Whose memory is it?" Harry asked.

"Mine," he answered simply as they stood up. And when they went into the memory, they found themselves back in the office they left. Fawkes was on his perch, sleeping peacefully, as his past self was glancing at the window with the thoughtful expression. Albus could remember clearly just what he was thinking at this time. It was here, he was thinking about Tom, and wondering just how things could have gone so wrong with such a promising young man. A minute later, there was a knock at the door. And when Tom entered, he heard Harry try to stifle a surprised gasp.

He couldn't blame him. For Tom was no longer Tom Riddle here. Here, it was Voldemort had entered the room. It had only been ten years, yet he had changed so rapidly. It was as though his features had been burned and blurred; they were waxy and oddly distorted, and the whites of the eyes now had a permanently bloody look, and he was so pale, that his skin was as white as the snow outside. If you looked at the teenage Voldemort and this one walking in, you never would've guessed that they were one and the same.

His past self wasn't the least bit surprised to see him as he greeted him and offered him to sit down.

"Thank you," Voldemort said as he did so, his voice higher and colder than it had once been. "I heard that you had become headmaster. A worthy choice."

With his past self smiling, he said graciously, "I am glad you approve. May I offer you a drink?"

"That would be welcome," said Voldemort. "I have come a long way."

After pouring them both some wine, he returned to his desk and asked just what it was that he wanted. Voldemort did not answer at once, but merely sipped his wine. "They do not call me 'Tom' anymore," he said coldly. "These days, I am known as —"

"I know what you are known as," his past self smiled pleasantly. "But to me, I'm afraid; you will always be Tom Riddle. It is one of the irritating things about old teachers. I am afraid that they never quite forget their charges' youthful beginnings."

That was true. Sad as it may be, Voldemort will always be Tom to him, never 'Lord Voldemort'. And seeing how he has turned out, he found it easier to remember him as Tom and not as Voldemort.

His past self raised his glass at Tom, whose face was looking very ugly indeed by it. The temperature in the room felt as cold as it did then… he knew that when he used Voldemort's real name, he had taken charge of the meeting.

"I am surprised you have remained here so long," said Voldemort after a short pause. "I always wondered why a wizard such as yourself never wished to leave school."

"Well," he answered politely, still smiling, "to a wizard such as myself, there can be nothing more important than passing on ancient skills, helping hone young minds. If I remember correctly, you once saw the attraction of teaching too."

Albus fought the urge to chuckle at his past self. Yes, for an old fossil like him it was important to pass his knowledge onto another generation—to help them learn from his mistakes and hopefully ensure that they don't learn from it again.

"I see it still," Voldemort hissed softly. "I merely wondered why you — who are so often asked for advice by the Ministry, and who have twice, I think, been offered the post of Minister —"

"Three times at the last count, actually," he answered back. "But the Ministry never attracted me as a career. Again, something we have in common, I think."

Yes, but for very different reasons.

"I have returned," Voldemort answered after a long stretch of silence, "later, perhaps, than Professor Dippet expected… but I have returned, nevertheless, to request again what he once told me I was too young to have. I have come to you to ask that you permit me to return to this castle, to teach. I think you must know that I have seen and done much since I left this place. I could show and tell your students' things they can gain from no other wizard."

Albus nodded his head very slowly at that. That was indeed true, but what Voldemort had to teach wasn't anything he ever wanted his students to learn. His past self was also thinking the same thing as he said, "Yes, I certainly do know that you have seen and done much since leaving us," he said quietly. "Rumors of your doings have reached your old school, Tom. I should be sorry to believe half of them."

Knowing just what kind of child he had been, Albus had made it a duty to keep a close eye on him even after he left school. Voldemort's expression remained impassive as he said, "Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, and spite spawns lies. You must know this, Dumbledore."

"You call it 'greatness,' what you have been doing, do you?" he asked, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

"Certainly," said Voldemort, and his eyes seemed to burn red. "I have experimented; I have pushed the boundaries of magic further, perhaps, than they have ever been pushed —"

'_And almost destroyed yourself in the venture,'_ Albus thought grimly. Not to mention, lots of other lives. But as far as Tom was concerned, he wasn't affected by all that.

"Of some kinds of magic," his past self corrected softly, "Of some. Of others, you remain… forgive me… woefully ignorant."

Voldemort leered at him, as if he highly doubted it. "The old argument," he said softly. "But nothing I have seen in the world has supported your famous pronouncements that love is more powerful than my kind of magic, Dumbledore."

No, but he had thought that he would have learned his lesson by now. Voldemort couldn't master love, even if he accepts it as a powerful form of magic. To understand love, he needs to understand both hurt and hate. And, he didn't believe that Voldemort understands or has felt any of them. Not even hate, for he does not deem anyone worthy enough for even that.

"Perhaps you have been looking in the wrong places," memory Albus asked.

"Well, then, what better place to start my fresh researches than here, at Hogwarts?" said Voldemort. "Will you let me return? Will you let me share my knowledge with your students? I place myself and my talents at your disposal. I am yours to command."

Albus sighed, knowing that even if that were true, Tom took orders from no one. His past self raised his eyebrows. "And what will become of those whom you command? What will happen to those who call themselves — or so rumor has it — the Death Eaters?"

Now here, Voldemort didn't seem to expect him to have heard of this part. His eyes flashed dangerous and he was breathing hard. He was trying to think of an excuse and came up with one as he answered that his 'friends' will carry on without him.

"I am glad to hear that you consider them friends," he said, but he didn't believe it for a moment. "I was under the impression that they are more in the order of servants."

"You are mistaken," Voldemort said at once.

Past Albus then asked that if he were to go to the Hog's Head he'd find a group of men waiting for him to come back. Voldemort looked annoyed at this but he merely said, "You are omniscient as ever, Dumbledore."

"Oh no, merely friendly with the local barmen," he answered and his current self smiled again. He had asked Aberforth to keep an eye on them should they come to his pub. Before Voldemort came here for the interview, his brother contacted him and told him that 'Tom' had brought several guests with him that looked fishy to him.

"Now, Tom…" his past self said as he put aside his glass and sat up straight. "Let us speak openly. Why have you come here tonight, surrounded by henchmen, to request a job we both know you do not want?"

Voldemort looked coldly surprised. "A job I do not want? On the contrary, Dumbledore, I want it very much."

Albus shook his head, knowing that was only half true.

"Oh, you want to come back to Hogwarts, but you do not want to teach any more than you wanted to when you were eighteen," he said, "What is it you're after, Tom? Why not try an open request for once?"

Voldemort sneered. "If you do not want to give me a job —"

"Of course I don't," he said, and his politeness seemed to vanish completely. "And I don't think for a moment you expected me to. Nevertheless, you came here, you asked, you must have had a purpose."

But like a child who had been told to come out and tell the truth when he had been caught lying, Voldemort stood up, his face with rage. "This is your final word?"

"It is," he said, standing up.

They looked at each other long and hard before Voldemort said through gritted teeth, "Then we have nothing more to say to each other."

Albus felt the same sadness that his past self did as he confessed his desire that he could frighten him and force him to repent for his crimes… how he wished that he could. But he knew that it was true… he could no longer frighten him with a burning wardrobe and have him return the things he stolen… but how he _wished_ he could.

Harry made a slight noise next to him, as if he was going to say something, but Albus ignored him for the moment as he watched Voldemort leave the room and he sighed sadly again before he took Harry's arm and brought him back to his office.

"Why?" said Harry at once, looking up at him. "Why did he come back? Did you ever find out?"

"I have ideas," he told him quietly, "but no more than that."

"What ideas, sir?"

Forcing a smile he wasn't feeling, he told him that he would tell him everything when he managed to bring the memory to him. Harry merely looked at him even as he walked to the door and politely held it open for him. As much as he enjoyed Harry's company, at the moment, he was suddenly longing for some time to himself.

Harry didn't move for a moment before he asked, "Was he after the Defense against the Dark Arts job again, sir? He didn't say…?"

Albus figured that it would be alright to tell him that much. "Oh, he definitely wanted the Defense against the Dark Arts job. The aftermath of our little meeting proved that. You see, we have never been able to keep a Defense against the Dark Arts teacher for longer than a year since I refused the post to Lord Voldemort."

**(How was it? It's all finally reaching the end here. What do you all think? I didn't put as much details in this chapter as I had in the past, at least I don't think I did, but I think it turned out alright. Hope you enjoyed it.)**


	59. The Act of Forgiving

**Chapter 59: The Act of Forgiving**

"What sort of a curse _is_ that, Severus?" Albus asked, after receiving grim news.

"A cutting curse," Severus replied, unable to form eye contact with him. "It…It was just a random curse. It is actually a mixture of two different curses. Two deadly curses. Though, Sectumsempra is a relatively milder curse. The counter-curse is quite easy."

"It is an advanced Dark Magic, Severus" remarked Albus, looking slightly pensive. "But how did Harry suddenly learn it?"

Severus looked away. "I have my theories. The point is that Potter could've easily killed Draco here."

Albus shook his head. "Will Draco be alright?" he asked and Severus nodded as he explained Draco's condition and his punishment for Harry. Albus could only agree with him. Although he highly doubted that Harry meant to do it, he couldn't let something like this slide.

He decided to leave it all in Severus's hands as he continued his seemingly fruitless search. He spent the last few weeks looking along the coastline—hoping to find just a trace of magic. And finally, he believed that he might've caught a breakthrough. He had found one place, near some high cliffs where he could detect, just the slightest bit of magic… and very old magic at that. He had searched the coast there for the last few days, and he could hardly believe his own luck.

Be truly believed that he found the place…

He had returned to the castle not long afterwards to prepare himself for what must come. When he had returned, he was delighted to hear some good news. It turned out that Harry was now going out with young Ginny Weasley, and his portraits all reported that they couldn't remember ever seeing either looking happier.

This little bit of news cheered him up greatly and enjoyed himself as he listened to some of the gossip going on. It turned out that though Harry seemed to become happily impervious to all of the news, Miss Weasley was lapping it all up.

Albus chuckled at hearing all that. "I am glad to see that things are going so well for him," he said, but his smile soon faded at that, knowing that these happy moments weren't going to last for too much longer. He had deliberated for some time into just going on his own to retrieve the Horcrux… but he shook his head hard at that. He had made a promise here… and he couldn't break it.

He had fooled himself into believing that Harry was still a child, and look at what happened. It had resulted in Sirius's death. In order to prevent something like that from happening again, he had to start treating him like an adult, not a child…

For he knew that once he had died, everyone would surly look to Harry for leadership… now he trusted Harry and his instincts… he knew that the boy was a natural leader and if there was anyone out there who could pull this off it was him.

But he couldn't stop himself from worrying and thought of his past lessons with Harry. He had given him all the weapons and advice he could give, the rest would soon be up to him. To be able to stand on his own feet and do the right thing… to be able to succeed where he, himself, had failed.

_*Flashback*_

_Albus was exhausted. He had been travelling for weeks and barely slept the whole time. His body was aching for rest as he returned to the dark school very late. He barely paid any attention to anything around him, barely nodding his head when the Bloody Baron glided past him._

_Though even his weariness couldn't stop the moral-boost that he needed; filling his insides as if he had sunk into a warm bath. After searching fruitlessly for months for another clue, he believed that he might've finally found a potential place to another Horcrux._

_He had found a village of sorts about halfway along the cliffs and he had come to believe that the orphans were taken there for a little sea air and a view of the waves. No Muggle could reach this rock unless they were uncommonly good mountaineers, and boats cannot approach the cliffs, the waters around them were too dangerous. He had come to believe that Tom had climbed down with magic, and had brought with him two young children… who he terrorized…_

_When he returned to his office, his portraits each had something to say._

"_The Room of Requirements?" repeated Albus in surprise when he put away his travelling cloak._

"_It's just what I overheard," Dexter explained, "Harry believes that Malfoy is sneaking off to that place and he is planning something there."_

"_That would explain what Severus said about him disappearing from time to time," Albus said, thinking all over. "What else?"_

"_Well, he also thinks that he stole some Polyjuice Potion from Slughorn and is using his two bodyguards to change forms," Dexter said, "and keep guard."_

_Albus thought it all over as leaned back in his chair again, dozing off silently, and wondering if he could sleep here. "That is a very interesting theory," he said wearily, "Though also very possible. It is unlikely that Draco would have to many people help him here… and I suppose that it wouldn't have been too difficult to steal some Polyjuice Potions from Horace… I will have to have a word with Severus when I next see him."_

_He was dozing off again, his eyes drifting away closed and he probably would've fallen asleep there if not for the sudden loud knock on the door. His eyes snapped open and he had to fight the groan as he called out a weary, "Enter."_

_To his greatest surprise, it was Harry, taking off his Invisibility Cloak and was gasping for breath—as if he had run all the way here._

_"Good gracious, Harry," he said in surprise, but it was good to see him again after such a long trip. "To what do I owe this very late pleasure?" _

_"Sir — I've got it," he gasped out, "I've got the memory from Slughorn." _

_And to his astonishment, Harry pulled out the little bottle of swirling memory. Albus stared at it, unable to think of anything to say for a moment, before he beamed at it._

_"Harry, this is spectacular news! Very well done indeed! I knew you could do it!" he said, forgetting how tired he was as he leapt up from his seat and carefully took the bottle and strode over to retrieve his Pensieve. "And now," he said, his heart beating fast as he poured the memory in. "Now, at last. We shall see. Harry, quickly…" _

_Soon, the two of them were drifting through the swirl of memory and were back in Horace's memory, looking much like the previous fake memory. They had arrived just as Tom was asking Horace about Professor Merrythought was retiring and Horace was complimenting him on where he got his information._

_"What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter — thank you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favorite —" Horace chuckled, and it was here that the memory had changed. Instead of the fog appearing, he went on to say, "— I confidently expect you to rise to Minister of Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapple, I have excellent contacts at the Ministry." _

_Albus shook his head—typical of Horace. Tom merely smiled as the boys all chuckled around him._

_"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing."_

_He noticed all the boys around him were smirking at each other, enjoying a private joke—and he had a very good idea to what it was about._

_"Nonsense," said Horace briskly, "couldn't be plainer you come from decent Wizarding stock, abilities like yours. No, you'll go far, Tom, I've never been wrong about a student yet." _

_Well… Tom certainly went far… no doubt about that. Though not in the way that Horace had hoped for. Suddenly, the clock chimed eleven and Horace was now telling them all to head off to bed. Now here was where he would finally get some answers. Tom remained where he was and patiently waited until he and Horace were alone before he asked him about Horcruxes._

_Horace stared at him for a moment, his hands twitching a little on his glass of wine before he asked if he was doing a project for Defense Against the Dark Arts. But they both knew that this wasn't about lessons._

_"Not exactly, sir," Tom said. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it." _

_"No… well… you'd be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom, that's__very dark stuff, very Dark indeed," said Horace, still looking unnerved._

_"But you obviously know all about them, sir?" Tom asked, "I mean, a wizard like you — sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously — I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could — so I just thought I'd –"_

_As he always was, he was a very good at flattery and with lies. Horace was playing around with the ribbon on top of his box of crystallized pineapple for a moment before he said nervously, "Well… well, it can't hurt to give you an overview, of course. Just so that you understand the term. A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul." _

_"I don't quite understand how that works, though, sir," Tom said, and Albus knew him well enough to know that this was another lie. He knew what a Horcrux was, but just what did he want to learn that was so important?_

_Horace went on to explain just what a Horcrux was and how it worked. How you must split your soul and hide that part outside your own body in an object; so that, even if the body is destroyed, you can survive. "…few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable." _

_But the greedy look in Tom's face was clear and he asked eagerly how to split the soul._

_"Well," Horace uncomfortably, "you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it would be an act of violation, it is against nature." _

_"But how do you do it?" Tom pressed on and Albus was shaking his head grimly._

_"By an act of evil — the supreme act of evil. By committing murder," Horace said, growing more and more fearful by the second. "Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage: He would encase the torn portion —" _

_Albus couldn't help but wonder if Tom had already created a Horcrux by this point or even planned on doing it further on? When he killed Myrtle, his father and his grandparents…? He didn't think that Voldemort would likely give away any of his plans here, if he could help it. Either he didn't know about the Horcruxes or he wanted something else from Horace and he already knew what it was… but he needed proof…_

_"Encase?" Tom asked, "But how —?" _

_"There is a spell, do not ask me, I don't know!" Horace said more forcefully. "Do I look as though I have tried it — do I look like a killer?" _

_"No, sir, of course not," Tom said quickly, and also trying to apologize, but Horace shook it off, claiming that it was natural to be curious._

_"Yes, sir," Tom said, before he asked one more thing, "What I don't understand, though — just out of curiosity — I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean, for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical number, wouldn't seven —?" _

_Albus shook his head. So that was it…_

_"Merlin's beard, Tom!" Horace gasped in horror at the very idea. "Seven! Isn't it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case… bad enough to divide the soul… but to rip it into seven pieces…" _

_Albus knew Horace enough times to know that he was now disturbed by this whole conversation. "Of course," he muttered hopefully, "this is all hypothetical, what we're discussing, isn't it? All academic…?"_

_"Yes, sir, of course," Tom said at once. _

_"But all the same, Tom… keep it quiet, what I've told — that's to say," Horace said firmly, "what we've discussed. People wouldn't like to think we've been chatting about Horcruxes. It's a banned subject at Hogwarts, you know. Dumbledore's particularly fierce about it…"_

_With good reason. If students like Tom were interested in it…?_

_"I won't say a word, sir," Tom said—but as he turned around, he got a good look on his face. That wild look of pure happiness that he had only seen once before… that made him seem… dark. This was it… the one final piece of the puzzle that he so desperately needed to learn what needed to be done. He sighed, it was worse than he thought._

_"Thank you, Harry," he said quietly, his tone full of grim gratefulness. "Let us go…" _

_Back in the office, he sat down, his weariness back in full swing—but his mind still going the whole time. Harry was sitting there as well, and waited for him to speak. "I have been hoping for this piece of evidence for a very long time," he told him softly, and truthfully he was starting to worry that he wouldn't get it before it was too late. "It confirms the theory on which I have been working, it tells me that I am right, and also how very far there is still to go…" _

_All the portraits were up and looking around, eagerly listening in on. He made another mental note to make sure that they all kept their mouths quiet about what they would hear._

_Ignoring them for the moment, he turned back to Harry and said, "Well, Harry, I am sure you understood the significance of what we just heard. At the same age as you are now, give or take a few months, Tom Riddle was doing all he could to find out how to make himself immortal."_

_But with the Horcrux or with more than one Horcrux, Voldemort is not exactly immortal. It was simple now what they had to do… well, simple in theory of course. Voldemort will be just a mortal. But, it is tremendously difficult to destroy a Horcrux. Especially to get through the protections that Tom would have definitely placed on and around it. That makes him near-about invincible. He could be killed, of course, but it would be difficult… exceedingly difficult._

_"You think he succeeded then, sir?" Harry asked him almost before he finished speaking. "He made a Horcrux? And that's why he didn't die when he attacked me? He had a Horcrux hidden somewhere? A bit of his soul was safe?" _

_"A bit… or more," Albus said. He had always known that Tom should've died that Halloween night, and it had always puzzled him to how he managed it. "You heard Voldemort, what he particularly wanted from Horace was an opinion on what would happen to the wizard who created more than one Horcrux, what would happen to the wizard so determined to evade death that he would be prepared to murder many times, rip his soul repeatedly, so as to store it in many, separately concealed Horcrux. No book would have given him that information. As far as I know — as far, I am sure, as Voldemort knew — no wizard had ever done more than tear his soul in two." _

_And the idea of so many Horcruxes was a nightmare to them all. They were the key, and so long as a single one remained, then they had no hope of defeating him once and for all. He let all this sink in for another moment before he confessed to Harry how four years ago when he had handed him proof that Voldemort had split his soul. And that had been Riddle's diary and the whole incident with the Chamber of Secrets._

_"I don't understand, sir," said Harry. _

_"Well, although I did not see the Riddle who came out of the diary, what you described to me was a phenomenon I had never witnessed," he went on, thinking of the memories that he had seen in Harry's mind that very night. "A mere memory starting to act and think for itself? A mere memory, sapping the life out of the girl into whose hands it had fallen?"_

_That was all impossible. A memory was supposed to be just that—a memory. Which meant that it shouldn't have been able to have done what it had been able to up to that point… and he was sure of it… That was no mere memory that Harry fought that night._

"_No, something much more sinister had lived inside that book," he said firmly, "A fragment of soul, I was almost sure of it. The diary had been a Horcrux. But this raised as many questions as it answered. What intrigued and alarmed me most was that that diary had been intended as a weapon as much as a safeguard."_

_"I still don't understand," said Harry and Albus went on to explain. He informed him that it worked as a Horcrux. Meaning that the piece of Voldemort's soul was hidden inside it and helped to keep him from dying. However, he also told him that there was no doubt in his mind that Tom wanted that diary to be used later on in the future._

_"Well, he didn't want his hard work to be wasted," said Harry. "He wanted people to know he was Slytherin's heir, because he couldn't take credit at the time." _

_"Quite correct," Albus agreed. "But don't you see, Harry, that if he intended the diary to be passed to, or planted on, some future Hogwarts student, he was being remarkably blasé about that precious fragment of his soul concealed within it. The point of a Horcrux is, as Professor Slughorn explained, to keep part of the self hidden and safe, not to fling it into somebody else's path and run the risk that they might destroy it — as indeed happened: That particular fragment of soul is no more; you saw to that."_

_He felt the pride in him rise greatly at that. Even before Harry knew about Horcruxes, he had been able to destroy on. But when he explained his theory on how Tom had must've made more than one and reminded him of the words that he told him when Voldemort gave his speech to the Death Eaters two years ago… he knew that Voldemort had succeeded—no matter how sick it made him feel._

_"So he's made himself impossible to kill by murdering other people?" said Harry, sounding horrified and furious at this. "Why couldn't he make a Sorcerer's Stone, or steal one, if he was so interested in immortality?" _

_"Well, we know that he tried to do just that, five years ago," Albus reminded him, and listed all risks of using the Stone. How Voldemort would be completely dependent on it and if he ever ran out, he'd die. While he was willing to use it to return to his body, he highly doubted that he would've seen a use for it after._

_Voldemort wasn't happy with just being immortal… he actually craved for the right way to do it. Though horrible, it was strange how Tom insisted on doing such a thing._

"_Thereafter, I am convinced; he intended to continue to rely on his Horcruxes," he said, "He would need nothing more, if only he could regain a human form. He was already immortal; you see… or as close to immortal as any man can be. But now, Harry, armed with this information, the crucial memory you have succeeded in procuring for us, we are closer to the secret of finishing Lord Voldemort than anyone has ever been before. You heard him, Harry: 'Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces… isn't seven the most powerfully magical number… 'Yes, I think the idea of a seven-part soul would greatly appeal to Lord Voldemort." _

_"He made seven Horcruxes?" said Harry, horror-struck, while several of the portraits on the walls made similar noises of shock and outrage. "But they could be anywhere in the world — hidden — buried or invisible —" _

_"I am glad to see you appreciate the magnitude of the problem," he informed him but told him that it was six, not seven. He felt that he had just torn his insides apart at saying that—especially since there was another Horcrux in the room with them. Fighting the surge of emotions in him, he went on, "That was the part of him that lived a spectral existence for so many years during his exile; without that, he has no self at all. That seventh piece of soul will be the last that anybody wishing to kill Voldemort must attack — the__piece that lives in his body." _

_"But the six Horcruxes, then," said Harry, a little desperately, "how are we supposed to find them?" _

_But Albus interrupted by telling him, "You are forgetting… you have already destroyed one of them. And I have destroyed another." _

_"You have?" said Harry eagerly. _

_"Yes indeed," he said, and he finally told him the truth about his hand. How he had found the ring in the remains of the Gaunt's House and had destroyed it._

_"But how did you find it?" Harry asked in amazement._

_"Well, as you now know, for many years I have made it my business to discover as much as I can about Voldemort's past life," he told him, remembering all the painful hours of searching. "I have traveled widely, visiting those places he once knew. I stumbled across the ring hidden in the ruin of the Gaunt's house…" _

_When he finished telling him all about his trip to the Gaunt's he reminded him that there were still four Horcruxes. Though he knew that wasn't completely true… he felt disgusting with himself that he was forced to lie again…_

_Tom Riddle had a strong, overwhelming intent both to prove himself superior and to receive the adoration he never was able to receive from his mother. But the second of these two desires was never fulfilled, and so in his longing need to feel superior was what caused him to start his obsession of controlling other people. This is how he discovered his ability to cause pain in others, and the pleasure it gave him. _

_Albus also believed that the death of his mother and the absence of her in his life had an extreme impact as well. He believed that her death, and the fact that she was unable to prevent it magically, led to his obsession with death. If he could prove himself more powerful than death, he can prove himself more powerful than everyone else, thus his need to feel superior. Now Albus knew that this knowledge is crucial, for without it, they would still be under the impression that Voldemort's sole motivation was for power… but now it was also to achieve his primary goal of immortality. _

_And so, when Voldemort attacked Harry that night, and the spell rebounded on him, he once again was overwhelmed by his desire to become immortal. Albus had come to believe that Voldemort would have thought, in that split second that despite all his efforts, he would die. This unbearable urge to never die surged through him and he unwittingly turned the nearest thing to him into a Horcrux – baby Harry. _

_"And they could be anything?" said Harry, his voice interrupting his dark and miserable thoughts. "They could be oh, in tin cans or, I dunno, empty potion bottles…" _

_He seriously doubted that Voldemort would use anything so flippant. Tom always had a fascination for important things… such as heirlooms or anything common. He will make sure that his Horcruxes are also genuinely fascinating and rare magical objects._

_"You are thinking of Portkeys, Harry," he said with a nod, "which must be ordinary objects, easy to overlook. But would Lord Voldemort use tin cans or old potion bottles to guard his own precious soul? You are forgetting what I have showed you. Lord Voldemort liked to collect trophies, and he preferred objects with a powerful magical history His pride, his belief in his own superiority, his determination to carve for himself a startling place in magical history; these things, suggest to me that Voldemort would have chosen his Horcrux with some care, favoring objects worthy of the honor." _

_"The diary wasn't that special," he pointed out._

_True, but Tom would feel he was important enough to think that his diary would be.__"The diary, as you have said yourself, was proof that he was the Heir of Slytherin. I am sure that Voldemort considered it of stupendous importance." _

_"So, the other Horcruxes?" Harry said, "Do you think you know what they are, sir?" _

_"I can only guess," he confessed, though he had some very good ideas. "For the reasons I have already given, I believe that Lord Voldemort would prefer objects that, in themselves, have certain grandeur. I have therefore trawled back through Voldemort's past to see if I can find evidence that such artifacts have disappeared around him." _

_"The locket!" said Harry loudly, his eyes wide, "Hufflepuff's cup!" _

_"Yes," he confirmed, smiling, "I would be prepared to bet — perhaps not my other hand — but a couple of fingers, that they became Horcruxes three and four. The remaining two, assuming again that he created a total of six, are more of a problem, but I will hazard a guess that, having secured objects from Hufflepuff and Slytherin, he set out to track down objects owned by Gryffindor or Ravenclaw."_

_Yes, objects that had once belonged to the four founders would've been a thought that would've made him feel even more important._

"_Four objects from the four founders would, I am sure, have exerted a powerful pull over Voldemort's imagination. I cannot answer for whether he ever managed to find anything of Ravenclaw's. I am confident, however, that the only known relic of Gryffindor remains safe." Dumbledore pointed his blackened fingers to the wall behind him, where a ruby-encrusted sword reposed within a__glass case._

_Well, not the only one. The Sorting Hat was indeed a Gryffindor relic… but, he knew that there had been one more of the object that had belonged to all the four. And his eyes went to the Sorting Hat for a brief moment before Harry had asked him if he believed that was why he wanted to come back to Hogwarts… so that he could try and find something that belonged to the other founders._

_"My thoughts precisely," he agreed. "But unfortunately, that does not advance us much further, for he was turned away, or so I believe, without the chance to search the school. I am forced to conclude that he never fulfilled his ambition of collecting four founders' objects. He definitely had two — he may have found three — that is the best we can do for now." _

_In any event, when he returned to Hogwarts after ten years and attempts to get a job – at this point he has definitely created more than a couple Horcruxes—his appearance was proof of that. _

_"Even if he got something of Ravenclaw's or of Gryffindor's, that leaves a sixth Horcrux," said Harry, counting them off, "Unless he's got both?" _

_But he shook his head and asked him what he thought of Nagini instead._

_"The snake?" said Harry, startled. "You can use animals as Horcruxes?" _

_"Well, it is inadvisable to do so," he admitted, "because to confide a part of your soul to something that can think and move for itself is obviously a very risky business. However, if my calculations are correct, Voldemort was still at least one Horcrux short of his goal of six when he entered your parents' house with the intention of killing you. He seems to have reserved the process of making Horcruxes for particularly significant deaths. You would certainly have been that."_

_He felt the need to keep banging his head in by talking about this, but he forced himself to go on.__"He believed that in killing you, he was destroying the danger the prophecy had outlined. He believed he was making himself invincible. I am sure that he was intending to make his final Horcrux with your death. As we know, he failed. After an interval of some years, however, he used Nagini to kill an old Muggle man, and it might then have occurred to him to turn her into his last Horcrux. She underlines the Slytherin connection, which enhances Lord Voldemort's mystique; I think he is perhaps as fond of her as he can be of anything; he certainly likes to keep her close, and he seems to have an unusual amount of control over her, even for a Parselmouth." _

_"So," said Harry, "the diary's gone, the ring's gone. The cup, the locket, and the snake are still intact, and you think there might be a Horcrux that was once Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's?" _

_"An admirably succinct and accurate summary, yes," he said, bowing his head sadly. _

_"So… are you still looking for them, sir?" Harry then asked interestedly, "Is that where you've been going when you've been leaving the school?" _

_"Correct," he answered. "I have been looking for a very long time. I think… perhaps… I may be close to finding another one. There are hopeful signs." _

_"And if you do," said Harry quickly, "can I come with you and help get rid of it?" _

_He wasn't the least bit surprised by this request. He looked at him long and hard… part of him wanted to say no, that it was too dangerous. But then again… he looked at Harry's face and remembered that he wasn't a child who needed protection anymore. This young man still had a lot to learn… but he often forgot that…_

_Besides… he didn't want a repeat of what happened the last time he tried to destroy a Horcrux on his own… he needed someone there to keep him in line._

_"Yes, I think so," he said softly._

_Harry, obviously stunned by that, croaked out "I can?" clearly not expecting that._

_"__Oh yes," he said, smiling a little at his stunned tone. "I think you have earned that right." _

_Harry's face looked thrilled, and Albus did his best to ignore the other portraits—all of them disappointed in him for what they knew that he knew about this subject._

_"Does Voldemort know when a Horcrux is destroyed, sir? Can he feel it?" Harry asked, thankfully going on before he had time to really think about them._

_"A very interesting question, Harry," he told him. "I believe not. I believe that Voldemort is now so immersed in evil, and these crucial parts of himself have been detached for so long, he does not feel as we do. Perhaps, at the point of death, he might be aware of his loss… but he was not aware, for instance, that the diary had been destroyed until he forced the truth out of Lucius Malfoy. When Voldemort discovered that the diary had been mutilated and robbed of all its powers, I am told that his anger was terrible to behold." _

_He felt a great deal of pity for poor Lucius at the thought. But Harry seemed confused and reminded him that Voldemort wanted Lucius to smuggle it into Hogwarts._

_"Yes, he did, years ago," Albus admitted, "when he was sure he would be able to create more Horcruxes, but still Lucius was supposed to wait for Voldemort's say-so, and he never received it, for Voldemort vanished shortly after giving him the diary. No doubt he thought that Lucius would not dare do anything with the Horcrux other than guard it carefully, but he was counting too much upon Lucius's fear of a master who had been gone for years and whom Lucius believed dead."_

_Lucius should've known better then to use such a weapon just in case his master was alive._

"_Of course, Lucius did not know what the diary really was," he added, knowing that Voldemort would never have told another living soul about that, "I understand that Voldemort had told him the diary would cause the Chamber of Secrets to reopen because it was cleverly enchanted. Had Lucius known he held a portion of his masters soul in his hands, he would undoubtedly have treated it with more reverence — but instead he went ahead and carried out the old plan for his own ends. By planting the diary upon Arthur Weasleys daughter, he hoped to discredit Arthur and get rid of a highly incriminating magical object in one stroke. Ah, poor Lucius… what with Voldemort's fury about the fact that he threw away the Horcrux for his own gain, and the fiasco at the Ministry last year, I would not be surprised if he is not secretly glad to be safe in Azkaban at the moment." _

_As Voldemort perfected the craft of creating a Horcrux, it seems that he gave his later, perfect, experiments the care and protection he considered unworthy of the diary. Yes, to an extent, he protected the diary by entrusting it to Lucius Malfoy, but clearly that was not a very efficient protection as Lucius – in a selfish effort to discredit Arthur Weasley – handed the diary right to Ginny Weasley, the sister of the best friend of Harry Potter. Ultimately, Lucius basically handed the diary to Harry himself. _

_Harry then asked him slowly, "So if all of his Horcruxes are destroyed, Voldemort could be killed?" _

_"Yes, I think so," Albus admitted. "Without his Horcruxes, Voldemort will be a mortal man with a maimed and diminished soul. Never forget, though, that while his soul may be damaged beyond repair, his brain and his magical powers remain intact. It will take uncommon skill and power to kill a wizard like Voldemort even without his Horcruxes." _

_Harry's eyes widen and he cried out, "But I haven't got uncommon skill and power."_

_It sounded to him as thought Harry had been listening to Severus for too long. __Of course he had amazing skill and power. You just have to take a look at his records to know that. It was too bad that he will never ever accept his own achievements. _

_"Yes, you have," he told him firmly, without a doubt in his mind. "You have a power that Voldemort has never had. You can —" _

_"I know!" Harry cut him off impatiently. "I can love!" _

_Judging from his face, he had a good feeling to what he looked like he wanted to add. And i__t is a very big deal! He doesn't even realize that this is nothing less than a miracle that he had faced so much and has still turned out to be such a caring person? He never turned to Dark Arts or craved for any sort of power! _

_"Yes, Harry, you can love," he answered softly, "Which, given everything that has happened to you, is a great and remarkable thing. You are still too young to understand how unusual you are, Harry." _

_Love in its purest form is defined as a deep ineffable feeling toward a person; whether your love is for friends, family, or to someone who is so much more… Wars have been fought and lives have been lost in the name of love. Love sometimes renders a person blind, deaf and dumb. Love has even set friend against friend. _

_Harry Potter has received little love in the past. The Dursleys made sure of this in an effort to suppress his magic. It was much the same way that Merope suffered by her father, but it had little effect on Harry because, unlike Merope, Harry __was deeply__ loved by his parents. Deeply, and so much that his parents died while protecting him. In a way the Dursleys did do Harry a great service. They taught him what __not__ to become or how __not__ to behave. Nowhere is this more evident than in Harry's choices of friends. What would be important to the Dursleys isn't to Harry. _

_The Dursleys never showed Harry what a real family can be. _

_"So, when the prophecy says that I'll have 'power the Dark Lord knows not,' it just means — love?" asked Harry, sounding disappointed. _

_"Yes — just love," Albus confirmed. "But Harry, never forget that what the prophecy says is only significant because Voldemort made it so. I told you this at the end of last year. Voldemort singled you out as the person who would be most dangerous to him — and in doing so, he made you the person who would be most dangerous to him!" _

_"__But it comes to the same—" Harry began but Albus was shaking his head.__ He wanted Harry to find his own reasons to kill Voldemort. Not just because there was a Prophecy about him, but because he really wishes to do that._

_"No, it doesn't!" he said impatiently, pointing at Harry with destroyed hand, he said, "You are setting too much store by the prophecy!" _

_"But," spluttered Harry, "but you said the prophecy means —" _

_"If Voldemort had never heard of the prophecy, would it have been fulfilled?" he asked him, "Would it have meant anything? Of course not! Do you think every prophecy in the Hall of Prophecy has been fulfilled?" _

_"But," said Harry, bewildered, "but last year, you said one of us would have to kill the other —" _

_"Harry, Harry, only because Voldemort made a grave error, and acted on Professor Trelawney's words!" he answered him, his voice getting louder, "If Voldemort had never murdered your father, would he have imparted in you a furious desire for revenge? Of course not! If he had not forced your mother to die for you, would he have given you a magical protection he could not penetrate? Of course not, Harry! Don't you see? Voldemort himself created his worst enemy, just as tyrants everywhere do! Have you any idea how much tyrants fear the people they oppress? All of them realize that, one day, amongst their many victims, there is sure to be one who rises against them and strikes back! Voldemort is no different! Always he was on the lookout for the one who would challenge him. He heard the prophecy and he leapt into action, with the result that he not only handpicked the man most likely to finish him, he handed him uniquely__deadly weapons!" _

_"But —" Harry began, but Albus stood up and paced around the room, trying to make him understand. How that Voldemort helped to forge Harry into the person he was… that he had created his own undoing by attempting to kill him that night. Yet all of these powers and abilities that he had been given, how he can see into Voldemort's mind, he had never once showed any desire to go to the Dark Arts._

_"Of course I haven't!" said Harry indignantly. "He killed my mum and dad!" _

_"You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!" he said loudly. "The only protection that can possibly work against the lure of power like Voldemort's! In spite of all the temptation you have endured, all the suffering, you remain pure of heart, just as pure as you were at the age of eleven, when you stared into a mirror that reflected your heart's desire, and it showed you only the way to thwart Lord Voldemort, and not immortality or riches. Harry, have you any idea how few wizards could have seen what you saw in that mirror?"_

_Himself included…_

"_Voldemort should have known then what he was dealing with, but he did not!" he went on, "But he knows it now. You have flitted into Lord Voldemort's mind without damage to yourself, but he cannot possess you__without enduring mortal agony, as he discovered in the Ministry. I do not think he understands why, Harry, but then, he was in such a hurry to mutilate his own soul, he never paused to understand the incomparable power of a soul that is untarnished and whole." _

_He paused for breath… how could he not notice… never realize just how special he was? After all these years… Albus had never seen anything like this before._

_"But, sir," said Harry, just as loudly, "it all comes to the same thing, doesn't it? I've got to try and kill him, or —" _

_"Got to?" Albus asked, "Of course you've got to! But not because of the prophecy! Because you, yourself, will never rest until you've tried! We both know it! Imagine, please, just for a moment, that you had never heard that prophecy! How would you feel about Voldemort now? Think!" _

_He didn't look at him as he continued to pace the room, waiting for him to speak. Finally,__ he heard Harry said quietly, __"I'd want him finished… And I'd want to do it."_

_Anybody would. But, only __he__ had the resources to actually make that happen. Going up against Voldemort… he knew was going to be excruciatingly difficult. But, Harry had to do it! Not because of the Prophecy, but because… he was the only one who could._

_"Of course you would!" he said, hoping that Harry was finally understanding. "You see, the prophecy does not mean you have to do anything! But the prophecy caused Lord Voldemort to mark you as his equal. In other words, you are free to choose your way, quite free to turn your back on the prophecy! But Voldemort continues to set__store by the prophecy. He will continue to hunt you… which makes it certain, really, that —" _

_"That one of us is going to end up killing the other," said Harry. "Yes." _

_Albus looked away, __Harry has already faced Voldemort many times already… armed only with the power of love. Voldemort had already been defeated once by love. Specifically, he was defeated by Lily love for her son. Yet there is another type of love that may play an even more important role here… one that would be more painful than anything else out there… forgiveness. _

_This is the most challenging type of love—to be able to forgive those who have harmed us. He believed that it was impossible to feel love or friendship for those who try to do us harm or harm those we care about. At best, we may be able to treat our enemies with compassion and offer them forgiveness for their crimes against us. This is the type of love that Harry has struggled with the most. He has had a great deal of difficulty setting aside his personal animosity toward Severus and the Malfoy family, and this has caused him grief on more than one occasion. _

_But when he had been able to set aside his anger and exhibit compassion toward his enemies, however, such as with Sirius… he learned, not only the truth about his parents' betrayal, but gain the love of a godfather. And also… he had been able to show mercy to the same man who had been behind it. By showing mercy to Peter Pettigrew and sparing his life, Harry placed one of Voldemort's servants in his debt. _

_Being able to forgive those who have caused suffering in our lives is often impossible… forgiveness… is never easy… but then again, if it was… they're would be no point. _

_He looked back to Harry's thoughtful expression and he couldn't help but wonder… would harry be able to do the same? Could he ever truly forgive Voldemort?_

_But he knew that the answer was something that only Harry himself… can decided._

_*End of Flashback*_

Albus sighed as he came out of his thoughts. He didn't know why he suddenly thought about all that now of all times. Now was the time for him to leave… he had just sent out a message to Harry to meet him in his office as quickly as he could.

But as he picked up his traveling cloak, his eyes suddenly went to the familiar Sorting Hat on the shelf. He stared at it for a few moments—and, not sure why he did it—he walked over to it and picked it up off its shelf. He remembered the last time that he had thought to place the hat on his head… back when he had been a young man.

Even though it had been many years since then, he remembered those words very well.

_"It looks like that I might've been wrong about you all along, Dumbledore. Perhaps Slytherin would've been a better place for you. But, then again, I'm just a hat."_

Having a feeling that he was going to regret doing this, Albus slowly placed it onto his head. To his surprise, the hat still slid over his eyes as it had done before. He waited patiently for the hat to speak… wondering what it was going to say now.

"_Bee in your bonnet… Dumbledore?__It's been some time," _the hat's voice said. _"But I can see that you've been quite busy since we last spoke?"_

'_Yes,'_ Albus thought back. _'Many things have changed since then.' _

"_But… you really haven't changed a bit have you?" _the hat asked him knowingly.

'_No,'_ Albus answered back calmly. _'I don't believe that I have.'_

"_But your priorities seemed to have changed," _it added thoughtfully, and he could tell that the hat was enjoying itself, looking through his mind.

"Maybe…" he said out loud, "But that no longer matters. The truth is… I don't have much time."

"_Don't think that I don't already know," _the hat answered him. _"I can see that your time is just about up. In fact, I see that you don't plan on living much longer. But don't pretend to be so naïve. We both know that those words mean nothing. It doesn't change the truth… you returned to this school out of fear time and time again… but it seems that you are still running away from something. I would've thought that you learned your lesson by now. The sad fact is that you can't escape your past, you can't just erase the harm you've done or will do…"_

"No, I agree," Albus sighed. "In some ways I have changed a lot since I first came back to Hogwarts… but I know full well in other ways, I haven't changed a bit. And that I find just as tragic as you do."

He stood there in silence for a short time before the hat spoke again.

"_Are you leaving now?"_ it asked, though it must already know the answer.

"Yes," he said. "After all… we only have the time we're given. In the end everyone dies… including me."

"_Well, that's quite something to say… especially coming from you,"_ the hat said, and for the first time, it sounded sad, _"Considering what you've done with __**your**__ time."_

"Again, you're right. I know that I'm far from innocent. I've done a lot of things that I am deeply ashamed of and I know I can't change that," Albus agreed. "But still… I will have to take my chances and accept the consequences for those actions. I don't intend to live past tonight. After that, I will have no choice but to leave it all up to fate."

"_Fate is a strange thing,"_ the hat stated. _"Impossible to know what it has planned for us all. You felt confident about your skills the last time we spoke, but now you are not so sure. You have a deep lack of trust in you."_

"Yes, but it's myself I don't trust," he stated.

"_Especially that one student who will be joining you tonight?"_ that hat asked and he felt as if someone had kicked him in the gut._ "You trust him… you trust him more out of anyone else you've ever known… even your own brother or the Order members… but even then, you just can't bring yourself to trust him with __**everything**__ can you? A very bad habit of yours that you just can't bring yourself to let go of. More than anything else, you're afraid of him… of what he might fall prey to. Because you know that boy is so much like how you were when you were his age. And, right now, your greatest fear is that he will repeat the same mistakes that you made."_

Albus stood there for a moment. "Is that what you think?"

The hat didn't answer.

"I agree that we are a lot alike, but… at the same time we're completely different," he said. He pulled the hat off and looked at it. "And I just have to trust him here. That's really all I can do now."

He put it back on the shelf as he slowly walked to the window and stared out at it for a short time. Just staring out at the window looking out at the grounds… and wondering…

Suddenly, he heard a loud hammer at the door and was almost surprised that the force didn't break it. After calling him in, Harry flung open the door and almost ended up falling in his hurry. Albus looked up at him and said softly, "Well, Harry, I promised that you could come with me."

Harry blinked, as if wondering what he was talking about before he stammered, "Come… with you…?"

"Only if you wish it, of course," he added.

"If I…?" he began before his eyes widen and asked if he found a Horcrux.

"I believe so," Albus admitted softly and the look on Harry's face seemed to be fighting emotions. "It is natural to be afraid."

"I'm not scared!" said Harry at once, "Which Horcrux is it? Where is it?"

"I am not sure which it is - though I think we can rule out the snake - but I believe it to be hidden in a cave on the coast many miles from here," he answered, "a cave I have been trying to locate for a very long time: the cave in which Tom Riddle once terrorized two children from his orphanage on their annual trip; you remember?"

"Yes," said Harry. "How is it protected?"

"I do not know; I have suspicions that may be entirely wrong," he finished. He knew that he had had promised him that he would take him with him, but now that it was here, he wasn't happy about it at all. "Harry, I promised you that you could come with me, and I stand by that promise, but it would be very wrong of me not to warn you that this will be exceedingly dangerous."

"I'm coming," said Harry, almost before he finished speaking, but it was here that Albus could see it. He could see traces of a deep anger written all over his face. He looked at him closely, and a little concerned as he asked what happened.

"Nothing," he said quickly, refusing to look at him, and he knew then that Harry was deeply angry with him over something.

"What has upset you?" he pressed on, and again Harry denied anything."Harry," he said, "you were never a good Occlumens -"

But that one word seemed to spark a storm. Harry glared up at him, and he was taken aback by the furious glint there.

"Snape!" he said, so loudly that he had startled Fawkes, behind him. "Snape's what's happened! _He_ told Voldemort about the prophecy, it was him, he listened outside the door, Trelawney told me!"

Albus didn't show any emotion, but it was a narrow thing. He was trying to figure out what he could say… and finally, more out of trying to gain extra time than anything, "When did you find out about this?"

"Just now!" said Harry, and suddenly he was yelling, just as loudly as he had the year before. "AND YOU LET HIM TEACH HERE AND HE TOLD VOLDEMORT TO GO AFTER MY MUM AND DAD!"

Breathing hard as if he had run miles, he turned and paced the office, rubbing his knuckles, and Albus knew that he was trying to control his anger—otherwise he would be smashing things once again. He just stood there, wondering what he could say to him…

He knew that Harry was angry here, and he didn't blame him for that. He just learned that his teacher was the one responsible for his parents' deaths. "Harry," he said softly, "Please listen to me."

Harry stopped his pacing, it looked like it was a lot of hard look, as he glared up at him.

"Professor Snape made a terrible -"

"Don't tell me it was a mistake, sir, he was listening at the door!" Harry interrupted before he could finish.

"Please let me finish," Albus asked, trying to remain calm until Harry gave him a hard nod and glared at him. He tried to explain that Severus had made a terrible mistake—that he didn't know that the people that Voldemort sent after were James or Lily.

Harry let out a laugh that was cold. "He hated my dad like he hated Sirius! Haven't you noticed, Professor, how the people Snape hates tend to end up dead?"

Albus knew that this didn't excuse the fact that he sent Voldemort after a baby… but…

"You have no idea of the remorse Professor Snape felt when he realized how Lord Voldemort had interpreted the prophecy, Harry," he said softly, "I believe it to be the greatest regret of his life and the reason that he returned -"

"But he is a very good Occlumens, isn't he, sir?" Harry interrupted, his voice now shaking with anger. He demanded to know what made him so sure that he was on their side. Albus didn't know what to say. He wanted so desperately to tell Harry the truth… but Severus's words came back to him. How he had sworn never to tell anyone else how he felt about Lily. Especially to Harry…

"I am sure. I trust Severus Snape completely," he answered.

He could see that Harry was breathing deeply, trying to calm down, but it didn't seem to be helping. "Well, I don't!" he said, as loudly as before. "He's up to something with Draco Malfoy right now, right under your nose, and you still -"

Albus's voice was stern. "We have discussed this, Harry. I have told you my views."

"You're leaving the school tonight and I'll bet you haven't even considered that Snape and Malfoy might decide to…" Harry snapped back.

"To what?" Albus asked, his eyebrows raised. "What is it that you suspect them of doing, precisely?"

He knew that Draco was up to something, but he had to trust that Severus knew what he was doing as Harry began to rant that they were up to something. He informed him that just as he was coming up here, Professor Trelawney was thrown out of the room with Malfoy celebrating. He's trying to med something dangerous in there. "And you're about to just walk out of school without -"

"Enough," Albus said calmly, but sternly. Harry fell silent as he asked, "Do you think that I have once left the school unprotected during my absences this year? I have not. Tonight, when I leave, there will again be additional protection in place. Please do not suggest that I do not take the safety of my students seriously, Harry."

"I didn't -" mumbled Harry, a little abashed, but Albus let him know that he wasn't going to talk about this any further. Harry looked as if he would love nothing more than to argue with him, but Albus didn't need to look inside his mind to know that he wanted to go more than anything else so he was biting back his retort. "Do you wish to come with me tonight?" he asked him.

"Yes," said Harry at once.

A part of him was hoping that he wouldn't… that he would be so angry that he would refuse to go but Albus knew better than that. He drew himself up to his full height and said, "Very well, then: listen. I take you with me on one condition: that you obey any command I might give you at once, and without question."

"Of course," Harry agreed.

"Be sure to understand me, Harry. I mean that you must follow even such orders as "run", "hide" or "go back". Do I have your word?" he asked firmly.

"I - yes, of course," he said, though he didn't sound happy.

"If I tells you to hide, you will do so?"

"Yes."

"If I tell you to flee, you will obey?"

"Yes."

"If I tell you to leave me, and save yourself, you will do as I tell you?"

"I -" Harry said, looking surprised. Albus knew that this was a difficult promise for him to make… and even more to abide by it. But the enchantments around the Horcruxes will probably be extremely advanced dark magic. Then, there is the Horcrux itself. It can't be too easy to destroy that thing.

"Harry?" Albus asked, he wasn't playing around here. If they weren't careful, they could get killed, but he wasn't going to let Harry get hurt if he could help it. His own life meant nothing now… his time was almost up… he fought the urge to look at his hand…

Harry glared at him and finally agreed. Albus fought the sigh as he told Harry to go and fetch the Cloak and met him in the Entrance Hall in five minutes time."

As Harry left, he turned to look back out at the ruby-red glare about the window. He didn't move a muscle as he watched it all. How many times had he stood here and looked out but never really noticed how beautiful things were?

His time was almost up…

_*Flashback*_

_Two nights ago, Albus had collapsed in his office, the pain in his body so terrible that he had to fight the urge to start screaming. He called Severus in and had been forced back into his chair as he let the Potion's Master pour at least a half a dozen potions into his mouth._

"_I'm… dying…" Albus gasped, his hand was now almost useless as it dangled pitifully from his wrist. He had spent the last few minutes coughing into his other hand, and when he pulled it away to look, he could see that he had been coughing up blood._

_Severus stood back, just looking at him before he said softly, "Yes, you are."_

_Albus sighed as he shut his eyes and leaned his head back, hating the bitter taste of blood in his mouth as he asked, "Tell me the truth. How many days do I have left?"_

_Severus sighed and heard him confess grimly. "Alright, I'll tell you. Ten days to two weeks from now… you'll die. Hard to guess for sure."_

_Albus let out a bitter chuckle. "Two weeks at most?" he asked. "That doesn't surprise me. But that should be enough time… in a couple more days I should hopefully have everything finished. I'll die and then it will all be up to Harry."_

"_You truly believe that boy has what it takes to do it?" Severus asked. "Even if the boy has to die, what makes you think that he'll believe me?"_

"_Give him the memory if you must," Albus answered grimly. "But it is essential that Harry understands. However, something tells me that he will listen."_

"_Ha," Severus snarled. "That boy has never trusted me. He hates me."_

"_And whose fault is that?" Albus asked, opening his bleary eyes at him, a knowing smile on his face._

"_That's not the point!" Severus snapped. "You mean to tell me that you're really going to die like this? Leave everything else to others?"_

"_I have no other choice," Albus told him. "It sickens me to think of how far there is to go here, but it's what must happen."_

"_You already know what's going to happen though don't you?" Severus asked him curiously, "The way that you have everything planned out here."_

_Albus shook his head. "No, merely a guess… a prayer. And I pray that what I hope will happen, will come to pass. Everything I did this year, I did to try and prepare Harry for what happen."_

"_You mean that's been your big project? Trying to teach that hopeless brat to defeat him?" Severus asked mockingly. "Damn, you idiot. You think that a child has what it takes to defeat the most powerful dark wizard the world has ever known?" _

"_He's done it before," Albus reminded him. "I know that the odds are against us, but I want to believe that he can do this." He looked over at him and finished, "It wouldn't hurt for you to believe in him as well. I know that it's hard for you… and despite all that I've said… you refuse to change your mind about him. But please… until this war is over, forget about James Potter. Forget about who Harry's father is… we've come too far to let petty feelings blind our reason."_

"_Why should I listen to you?! You know me! I'm not the type to get all sentimental just because someone has a short time to live!" Severus yelled at him. "Have you ever thought that maybe you expect so much that you've taken __too__ much for granted?"_

_Albus smiled. "I know I do… it is… a terrible habit that I've… never been able to outgrow. I guess… I just never seem to learn my lesson."_

_Severus glared at him. "What makes you think he's going to forgive you for this?"_

_Albus looked at him tiredly. "That's the point, Severus," he said. "I don't expect him to forgive me. In fact, I know that it's more than I deserve."_

_*End of Flashback*_

Albus sighed heavily at the memory, feeling light-headed and exhausted as he stood there. He could feel his body slowly beginning to shut down on him. He knew that Severus's words were true… he didn't have much time left. He could feel the Dark Magic that had come from the ring Horcrux spreading throughout his body almost like a poison… he could feel his life beginning to slip away from him at last. Though, he knew this would be the outcome almost the second after he placed that retched ring on his finger.

Trying hard to block out the terrible pain that his hand was giving him. Forcing himself to think about more important matters beside the burning…

The Horcruxes… thanks to Harry, he finally got the proof that he need to see what Tom had done. He tried to focus on the task that he had to complete before his time was up. He had devoted the last few years of his life into ridding this world of Lord Voldemort, and the key to doing that were the Horcruxes.

And because of his own foolishness, he was going to die before he could see all of them destroyed. But Albus knew that there was no one to blame but himself for his moment of weakness. He got back to the castle just yesterday, and he had thought that he had finally found the hiding place of the next Horcrux…

He knew that there was a good chance that he would die tonight. And so he had to get everything ready. He left his will in a place where he knew would be easy for others to find and had hidden the sword with Severus at the moment.

Suddenly, he turned and slowly walked over to his desk and opened one of the bottom drawers so that he could look at what was inside. There, fluttering rather feebly… was a golden Snitch. His last gift… a Snitch that held the Resurrection Stone…

Albus's heart grew very heavy just by seeing it. He reached in and took the walnut sized ball in his uninjured hand, staring at it and feeling sick with himself.

He knew what it all meant. He had known for so long now… and he hated himself for knowing. He had to send one of the bravest, most brilliant students he ever had… to his death. But if all went well and he was right about the blood bond between Harry and Voldemort then Harry's death would not be final. The key though, was that Harry had to believe he would truly die. Tears fell freely from his eyes as he gripped the Snitch tightly. Harry had been through so much, experienced so much pain, seen things that were truly horrific but Albus had to put him through so much more. There was only one thing left that he could do to ease the pain of the sacrifice Harry would undoubtedly have to make.

Albus knew Harry well enough by now that he was able to make it so that Harry would not figure out the riddle until it was time: _I open at the close._

Harry would hate him, he knew it; and he didn't blame him at all for it. Albus stared long and hard at the little gold ball in his hands as the wings flapped feebly against his uninjured fingers. After everything that had happened last year, his relationship with him was already very fragile. He had been careful this year—slowly wanting to build that trust back up. He even thought back to several months ago—back right after the Christmas holidays—when he told him about his meeting with Rufus Scrimgeour.

_"He accused me of being 'Dumbledore's man through and through.'"_

_"How very rude of him."_

_"I told him I was."_

Those few words—after everything that had happened—meant the world to him. But they also made him feel so ashamed of himself for keeping so much from him. When he thought it over, he couldn't believe what he was doing. Once he died, he would leave the fate of the wizarding world to a student who was barely of age. He would be forced to lead the charge against Voldemort and his Death Eaters—while he would leave him nothing but riddles and half-truths when he knew that Harry deserved to know everything.

He bowed his head once more, more guilty than he has been in a very long time. Harry was almost the same age as he, himself, when he had been when plotting for the opposite side in that respect.

Albus shut his eyes softly. His chest tightened, and he felt as though he had just eaten an extremely disgusting tasting Every Flavor Bean. All he could do was hope that the young boy—no, young man's—resolve will be enough. He held the little Snitch in his hand, remembering how that small and determined boy who had almost swallowed it in his first game almost six years ago. How he was now planning that same boy's end.

He let the ball fall back into the drawer and closed it with such force that the whole desk rattled.

"Forgive me…" he muttered softly. It was a plea he had uttered many times… to Ariana and so many others… and now to Harry, but he knew that it was useless, because they couldn't hear him… and even if they could it wouldn't change the pain that he had put them through. All he could do was hope that everything he planned would turn out for the best.

'_But what if it didn't?' _said a nasty voice in the back of his head. _'What if he guessed wrong? What if Harry wasn't able to pull it off? What if everything he thought and had planned out wouldn't go as he hoped?'_

These thoughts had been plaguing his mind for months now. Ever since he learned that he had less than a year left to live, he had been questioning and second-guessing himself.

'_Harry,' _he thought to himself._ 'You and I are a lot alike… that is why I'm now deeply afraid for you. But… no matter what happens… I hope that deep down you know that I want you to live.'_

He got up and opened the window—the cool, night air drifting in—before he looked to Fawkes, who was looking at him sadly. "Should something happen to me, you're free to go where you want to," he said to him softly, stroking his feathers, "You're free now."

Fawkes let out a sad note, but it felt as if he had drunk something warm and it seemed to give him strength for the difficult task ahead. Fawkes nipped his fingers in an affectionate way and he felt as if his heart was being painfully squeezed.

"You've stuck there by me no matter what happened… for all these years," he said softly. "Thank you… so much."

He pulled his hand away, his hand now cold after leaving the hot feathers, as he swung his cloak over his shoulders.

"You really leaving… Dumbledore?" Dilys called to him as he headed to the door.

"Yes," he answered back, his hand on the doorknob. "Don't bother waiting up for me."

"Well, I won't say it's been nice knowing ya," Phineas called as the other teachers were all asking for him not to leave.

"I am touched," Albus stated. "But it'll be alright. For my final orders to you all…" he looked back to them all. "The first off is to keep quiet about anything you've heard in these past meetings… and that includes you Phineas!" he added, fighting a smile.

"And second?" Dexter asked, looking a little teary eyed.

"Keep an eye on the students for me," he said firmly. "Though, when we next meet, I'll most likely be up on the wall with all of you. It will truly be a great honor."

That earned a lot of tears and cries—especially from the Headmistress as the Headmasters let out words that he couldn't understand through all the noise. He stared around, taking one last look at the office… his eyes landing on Fawkes one last time. They gave each other a look of understanding before he smiled at the beautiful bird.

"Goodbye…" he said softly as he left with a swish of his cloak and closed the door behind him.

He made his way back down the long stairs… memories coming back to him. How many times had he walked these halls and never appreciated how magical everything was? How amazing and wondrous things were in life?

It was almost sad… now that he was about to die the littlest thing seemed so precious to him.

He had reached the doors first—surprising since it had taken him so long to say goodbye to everything. But he didn't have to wait long. Only a few seconds later he heard footsteps on the steps and he turned just as Harry skidded to the top step and saw him. He was panting hard by the time he got to him, and Albus asked him to put the cloak on before they left.

He patiently waited until Harry caught his breath and throw the cloak over his head and vanished before he asked, "Very good. Shall we go?"

He set off at once, able to pick up on Harry's own light footsteps right next to him in the still summer air.

"But what will people think when they see you leaving, Professor?" Harry's voice asked from his left side.

"That I am off into Hogsmeade for a drink," he answered lightly. "I sometimes offer Rosmerta my custom, or else visit the Hog's Head… or I appear to. It is as good a way as any of disguising one's true destination."

They made their way down the drive in the gathering twilight. The air was full of the smells of warm grass, lake water and wood smoke from Hagrid's cabin. It was difficult to believe that they were heading for anything dangerous or frightening. Harry suddenly asked if they would be Apparating and Albus confirmed it, quietly asking if he could Apparate now.

"Yes," said Harry, "but I haven't got a license."

"No matter," he said, since Harry didn't know where they were going, "I can assist you again."

They turned out of the gates into the twilit, deserted lane to Hogsmeade. Darkness descended fast as they walked and by the time they reached the High Street night was falling in earnest. Lights twinkled from windows over shops and as they neared the Three Broomsticks, they heard raucous shouting. Soon, Rosmerta appeared and threw out a wizard so that he was groaning on the ground. She looked up and spotted him, a slightly glazed look in her eyes. "Oh, hello, Albus… you're out late…" she stated.

He nodded politely

"Good evening, Rosmerta, good evening… forgive me, I'm off to the Hog's Head… no offence, but I feel like a quieter atmosphere tonight…" he told her. She didn't look the least bit fazed as she went back inside. They walked further away and soon turned the corner to a side street where they could see the Hog's Head… creaking a little.

Albus fought a sigh as he looked at it—knowing that his only family was still inside. He hoped that Aberforth was doing well as he glanced around, half hoping to see him again before speaking to Harry. "It will not be necessary for us to enter. As long as nobody sees us go… now place your hand upon my arm, Harry. There is no need to grip too hard, I am merely guiding you. On the count of three – one… two… three…"

They turned and left Hogsmeade behind them… and when they arrived, he breathed in the lungfuls of the salty air.

**(How was it? It's all finally reaching the end here. The next chapter will be when they go into the retrieve the Horcrux. And I hope that you all enjoyed it. Dumbledore's death is almost here. Update again soon.)**


	60. A Marvelous Life

**Chapter 60: A Marvelous Life**

The strong smell of salt and seaweed bombarded his nose as he opened his eyes and looked out at the moonlit ocean underneath a star-strewn sky. He was standing with Harry on a high ridge of dark rock, water foaming and churning below them.

He turned to look behind him at the cliff, black and faceless, surrounded by the sea and devoid of any greenery or life. He looked around at the forlorn scenery—feeling that staying here too long would be enough to traumatize anyone. No one in their right mind would come here unless they had good reason.

"What do you think?" he asked Harry curiously.

"They brought the kids from the orphanage here?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Not here, precisely," he answered as he held his wand up so that he could try and get a look of the entrance. "There is a village of sorts about halfway along the cliffs behind us. I believe the orphans were taken there for a little sea air and a view of the waves. No, I think it was only ever Tom Riddle and his youthful victims who visited this spot. No Muggle could reach this rock unless they were uncommonly good mountaineers, and boats cannot approach the cliffs, the waters around them are too dangerous. I imagine that Riddle climbed down; magic would have served better than ropes. And he brought two small children with him, probably for the pleasure of terrorizing them. I think the journey alone would have done it, don't you?"

He felt a great deal of sympathy and pity for the two children that Tom had damaged beyond all recovery. He was never able to find out what it was that he had done to them, but he had a bad idea that he might've Apparated himself and the two orphans to the cave where he tortured them. He felt chills go down his spine at the very thought.

He did his best to hide the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he told Harry that they had to go on a little farther. He made sure that Harry followed him to the very edge of the rock where the jagged ridges would be enough to serve as footholds for them to move as close as they could get. They moved slowly and carefully, taking about ten minutes in total to get as close as they could—with him silently cursing his useless hand—before they reached the water's edge.

Ignoring the water spray on his face, he lit his wand and looked dangerously over the brink. He could see the light sparkle on the water's surface and when he looked a little wider, he could just make out the fissure in the side of the cliff. He smiled.

"You will not object to getting a little wet?" he asked Harry causally.

"No," said Harry.

"Then take off your Invisibility Cloak — there is no need for it now — and let us take the plunge," he told him, and with a grace he hadn't used in years, he slid from the rock. Clutching his wand between his teeth, he swam towards the dark outface. He heard Harry jumping into the water behind him as he made his way closer to the cliff.

After fitting through it, it led to a long dark tunnel whose walls were coated with years of slime. Finally, they reached a small passageway on the left, being careful to avoid the sharp rocks, his feet eventually kicked to a stone that served as stairs. Glad to get out of the chilly water, he stepped up as the water poured out of his soaked clothes. But he ignored the shivering as he went over to examine the wall.

Holding his wand high, he looked around, trying to sense something. "Yes, this is the place," he said softly, not realizing he spoke out loud.

"How can you tell?" Harry whispered behind him as he heard him come out of the water.

"It has known magic," he answered simply. "This is merely the antechamber, the entrance hall. We need to penetrate the inner place… Now it is Lord Voldemort's obstacles that stand in our way, rather than those nature made…"

He put everything else out of his mind as he began to touch as much as the rock he could, chanting revealing spells and incantations to get something to show. It must've taken five minutes as he walked around the cave, trying to sense the entrance…

Finally, on a particular smooth part of the rock, he found it.

"Here," he said to Harry certainly. "We go on through here. The entrance is concealed."

He stood back and used his wand to try and force the entrance open. And for the briefest moment, there was light shining, revealing the outline of the door.

"You've d-done it!" Harry stuttered, sounding close to freezing, but before he could even finish speaking however, the light had faded. Albus looked back at him and realized that Harry was also dripping wet and looked half frozen.

"Harry, I'm so sorry, I forgot," he said; he now pointed his wand at him to dry out his clothes. He had then turned back to the wall as Harry gave him a thank you. But he was now focusing all his attention on the wall, trying to think like Tom would… how to open the door.

Perhaps he had known about it from the start… but it was what must be done. After a few minutes he sighed to himself, now deeply disappointed that Tom was still as predictable as ever… "Oh, surely not. So crude."

"What is it, Professor?" Harry asked behind him.

"I rather think," he said, absent-mindedly reaching into his pocket to pull out a knife, something that he had a feeling would be useful… "That we are required to make payment to pass."

Blood… That certainly is crude and very pure-blood-like. Most of the bonds and bindings have to be attested using Blood Quills or drops of blood. To people like them, blood means everything.

"Payment?" Harry asked, not understanding it. "You've got to give the door something?"

"Yes," he nodded dully. "Blood, if I am not much mistaken."

"Blood?" Harry repeated incredulously.

"I said it was crude," Albus said shaking his head, unable to hide the disappointment here. Really Tom, was this the best that you could come up with? "The idea, as I am sure you will have gathered, is that your enemy must weaken him- or herself to enter. Once again, Lord Voldemort fails to grasp that there are much more terrible things than physical injury."

But he was also a little uneasy. A bit of blood doesn't really cause much of a physical injury. What exactly was Voldemort trying to do?

"Yeah, but still, if you can avoid it…?" Harry said, sounding distained at the idea.

But he was already shaking back his sleeve of his injured arm. "Sometimes, however, it is unavoidable," he said calmly. As soon as Harry realized what he was about to do, he stepped over, offering to do it himself. But Albus just smiled back at him before he could finish.

It was alright. He wouldn't be around for much longer and he might as well make himself useful with what little time he had left. Besides, Harry shed enough of his blood…

He left a deep cut in his own arm and made sure that the rock was splattered with it before he healed the wound. "You are very kind, Harry," he told him, "But your blood is worth more than mine. Ah, that seems to have done the trick, doesn't it?"

He was right. For at that moment, the doorway appeared again. The bloody rock vanished so that there was an opening wide enough for them to step through. Beyond however was pitch black. Making sure that Harry stayed close behind him, he stepped through…

They were standing in a large cavern with the ceiling so high that he couldn't see it, and on the edge of a large black lake—so wide that he couldn't make out the distant banks. Even as Harry pulled out his wand and lit it, it was still too dark to see. But what caught his attention the most was the eerie, misty greenish light shone far away in what looked like the middle of the lake; it was reflected in the completely still water below.

Magically induced darkness… Tom truly did something sinister here.

Frowning he told Harry to stay very close and not to step into the water no matter what. They walked along the bank, their footsteps the only sounds in the whole place as he tried to sense for something.

After several minutes Harry finally spoke. "Professor? Do you think the Horcrux is here?"

"Oh yes," he answered with certainly. He knew that the Horcux was surely to be where that light was coming from and Tom was sure to have discovered some way to get to it as well should he have reason to. "Yes, I'm sure it is. The question is, how do we get to it?"

"We couldn't… we couldn't just try a Summoning Charm?" Harry offered, his tone clearly admitting that he was willing to do almost anything to get out of this place as soon as possible.

Not that Albus blamed him for that. But that idea wasn't bad at all and he stopped dead so that Harry almost walked into him. He looked back and offered for him to do it. Harry looked startled at that, but he did as he asked…

Gripping his wand extra tightly in case something happened, with a loud booming noise, something burst from the water just twenty feet away before it crashed back into the water and Harry jumped back in shock.

"What was that?" he gasped out in disbelief.

"Something, I think, that is ready to respond should we attempt to seize the Horcrux," Albus answered, having a very bad feeling to what was in there. Almost at once the water was smooth as glass and Harry asked if he knew that something like this would happen. "I thought something would happen if we made an obvious attempt to get our hands on the Horcrux," he admitted, "That was a very good idea, Harry; much the simplest way of finding out what we are facing."

But knowing what it is, will be beneficial. At the least they'll be able to come up with some kind of counter-attack ready; especially Harry.

"But we don't know what the thing was," Harry told him at once, trying to control his breathing.

Oh, Albus had a bad feeling that there was much more than one. "What the things are, you mean," he said softly. "I doubt very much that there is only one of them. Shall we walk on?"

They walked on for a few more minutes before Harry asked him if they would be forced to go into the lake, to which he replied that would only happen if they were very unfortunate.

"You don't think the Horcrux is at the bottom?" he asked him in surprise.

"Oh no…" he answered calmly as he pointed to the center of the lake where the light was coming from. "I think the Horcrux is in the middle."

Harry followed his gaze to look at the misty green light before he looked back and asked, "So we're going to have to cross the lake to get to it?"

"Yes, I think so," he answered as they set off again, but almost at once, he stopped when he felt something here.

"Aha!" he called and stopped. But Harry ended up really walking into him, and dangerously came close to falling into the water. Albus quickly grabbed him and pulled him back to safety as he gave him an apology before he turned his attention back to the spot that he felt it. Something was here, he could tell…

He reached up and tried running his hand through the air, trying to find it…

But he smiled brightly when he found it. He could sense the Concealment Charm around here and it paid off as he taped his wand on the chain he just found. The thick, coppery green chain appeared for them both to see and soon he was able to spot the green boat breaking through the surface and floated towards them.

"How did you know that was there?" Harry asked in astonishment.

"Magic always leaves traces, sometimes very distinctive traces," he answered. There was a Concealment Charm, a Disillusionment Charm… and several others. Though basic, there was a lot of power put into them so that most never would've noticed them. But he had one advantage to them…

"I taught Tom Riddle. I know his style."

"Is… is this boat safe?" Harry asked nervously, glancing over the tiny thing.

"Oh yes, I think so," Albus answered him, "Voldemort needed to create a means to cross the lake without attracting the wrath of those creatures he had placed within it in case he ever wanted to visit or remove his Horcrux."

"So the things in the water won't do anything to us if we cross in Voldemort's boat?" Harry asked, now looking very nervous as he glanced around at the water.

"I think we must resign ourselves to the fact that they will, at some point, realize we are not Lord Voldemort," he answered without looking at him, "Thus far, however, we have done well. They have allowed us to raise the boat."

"But why have they let us?" he asked hurriedly and he explained that Voldemort would've been confident enough to know that none but a powerful wizard could've found the boat and that he would've been prepared to risk the chance that someone would find it. But he must've have some other trap in store for him… they would soon find out.

"It doesn't look like it was built for two people," he pointed out, "Will it hold both of us? Will we be too heavy together?"

Albus doubted that weight would've been a problem. He chuckled softly to himself as he informed Harry that there was a good chance that a spell had been placed here so that only one wizard could cross at a time.

"But then —?" Harry began at once worriedly but Albus cut him off.

"I do not think you will count, Harry," he said, "You are underage and un-qualified. Voldemort would never have expected a sixteen-year-old to reach this place: I think it unlikely that your powers will register compared to mine."

He suddenly realized what he said and knew that those words wouldn't have been what Harry wanted to hear right now, especially from him.

"Voldemort's mistake, Harry, Voldemort's mistake…" he added, and here he spoke from experience, "Age is foolish and forgetful when it underestimates youth. Now, you first this time, and be careful not to touch the water."

He stood back and watched as Harry carefully climbed into the boat and then joined him before the ship set out at once, clearly knowing the way to the mist.

He kept his eyes pierced on the pathway in front of them—having a very good idea to what it was that was beneath the water. And apparently, Harry found out the hard way as he called loudly in a startled voice, "Professor!"

"Harry?" he asked.

"I think I saw a hand in the water — a human hand!" he gasped, sounding close to choking.

"Yes, I am sure you did," he answered calmly, letting him know silently that they were safe for now. But Harry was still staring down into the water as he gasped out, "So that thing that jumped out of the water —?"

But he got his answer at once when they passed by a large patch of water were they could see the form of a dead man lying face up inches beneath the surface, his open eyes misted as though with cobwebs, his hair and his robes swirling around him like smoke. "There are bodies in here!" Harry cried out, his voice sounding higher than he ever heard from him before, sounding close to hysterical.

Albus supposed that he was freaked out by this. "Yes," he answered mildly, "but we do not need to worry about them at the moment."

"At the moment?" Harry repeated loudly, staring back at him.

"Not while they are merely drifting peacefully below us," he told him softly. "There is nothing to be feared from a body, Harry, any more than there is anything to be feared from the darkness. Lord Voldemort, who of course secretly fears both, disagrees. But once again, he reveals his own lack of wisdom. It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more."

He was surprised that Harry didn't say anything at first as he tried to master his breathing. And when he next spoke, he was pleasantly surprised to hear that his voice sounded much calmer and level-headed than before. "But one of them jumped. When I tried to Summon the Horcrux, a body leapt out of the lake."

He nodded back to him, letting him know that he was aware that once they take the Horcrux, they will be less peaceful. But also added that they needed light and warmth to drive them away. When Harry continued to look baffled, he smiled and clarified that he was talking about fire.

"Oh… right…" said Harry quickly. Neither of them said anything more as they continued sailing towards the Horcrux. He knew that Harry was scared here, given the way that he was shaking slightly next to him. Albus looked at him through the corner of his eyes sadly.

For some reason, he was almost overwhelmed with the desire to tell him that he was going to die very soon. But he couldn't…

He wasn't sure it was because he didn't want to scare him anymore than he already was… or because he, himself, was too cowardly to tell him. Instead, he put as much cheerfulness he could put into his voice, "Nearly there!"

And there… in just minutes they bumped right into a small island in the middle of the lake—just about the size of his own office, and he suddenly felt a strong pang of homesickness. He had Harry climb out first, after warning him not to touch the water, before he quickly followed and looked around cautiously.

There it was… a faint light was coming from a large stone basin on a pedestal in the very center of the island. That had to be where it was. Albus went forward with Harry close behind him before they approached the basin… they looked into it together to see that it was full of emerald liquid that glowed threateningly in this piercing darkness.

"What is it?" asked Harry quietly.

But Albus wasn't any surer than Harry was here. "I am not sure. Something more worrisome than blood and bodies, however," he said almost absent-mindedly. He pushed his sleeve over his dead hand and cautiously stretched out his fingers to touch it before he got even some kind of answer.

Harry tried to tell him not to touch it, but he gave him a faint smile as he explained that he couldn't. Harry looked puzzled but he carefully attempted to touch it as well. He saw his eyes widen when he realized that he couldn't go any closer to the surface—as if there was some kind of wall between them.

"Out of the way, please, Harry," he said as he stepped forward and raised his wand. He tried everything he could think of. Vanishing it, parting, scooping, siphoned, Transfigured, Charmed… but nothing.

Albus was starting to grow frustrated here as he stopped, thinking like how Tom would think and came to what had to be the answer. Once he withdrew his wand, Harry asked if he thought that the Horcrux was in there. Oh, there was no doubt as he told Harry as much before he conjured up a crystal goblet and picked it up.

"I can only conclude that this potion is supposed to be drunk," he said and Harry reaction was predictable.

"What?!" he yelled out. "NO!"

"Yes, I think so," he told him firmly, "Only by drinking it can I empty the basin and see what lies in its depths."

"But what if—what if it kills you?" Harry asked him at once.

"Oh, I doubt that it would work like that," he told him calmly. "Lord Voldemort would not want to kill the person who reached this island."

Maybe he should've worded that better, for Harry was staring at him as if he thought that he lost his mind. He then spoke in a voice that was at least halfway respectable, "Sir… sir, this is Voldemort we're —"

"I'm sorry, Harry;" he corrected. "I should have said, he would not want to _immediately_ kill the person who reached this island. He would want to keep them alive long enough to find out how they managed to penetrate so far through his defenses and, most importantly of all, why they were so intent upon emptying the basin. Do not forget that Lord Voldemort believes that he alone knows about his Horcruxes."

Harry didn't look the least bit convinced this time, looking ready to argue, but Albus held up his hand to him, silently telling him to remain quiet as he thought it all through.

"Undoubtedly," he said, finally, "this potion must act in a way that will prevent me taking the Horcrux. It might paralyze me, cause me to forget what I am here for, create so much pain I am distracted, or render me incapable in some other way. This being the case, Harry, it will be your job to make sure I keep drinking, even if you have to tip the potion into my protesting mouth. You understand?"

He knew that he was being cruel… but he needed someone here to keep his mind on the matter at hand. The last time he tried to do it alone, it had cost him greatly…

This needed to be done. He knew Harry would resent what he would surely had to do for perhaps the rest of his life. But someone had to ensure that he drunk the entire thing… and he had to be the one to do it. Though he felt truly sick with himself here for even thinking such a thing… this was an astoundingly huge task to ask—especially since he had already suffered unspeakable horrors—he didn't need another one. But…

Their eyes met over the basin, each pale face lit with that strange, green light. Albus knew that he couldn't do this alone anymore.

"You remember," he reminded him softly, "the condition on which I brought you with me?"

The green that was reflected in Harry's own green eyes seemed to make them glow as he asked, "But what if—?"

"You swore, did you not, to follow any command I gave you?" he went on before he could finish.

"Yes, but—"

"I warned you, did I not, that there might be danger?" he also added.

"Yes," Harry gasped, and he was suddenly reminded of the Hearing almost two years ago when Fudge kept asking question after question before Harry could finish answering, "but —"

"Well, then," he finished, as if that settled the matter as he shook his sleeves back and raised the empty goblet. "You have my orders."

"Why can't I drink the potion instead?" asked Harry desperately.

But Albus knew that he'd never be able to rest in peace if he let a student be harmed in his presence like that… at least not by choice.

"Because I am much older, much cleverer, and much less valuable," he said without looking at him, his eyes still on his hand. Because it makes sense… he's already knocking at death's door as they spoke. It was only fitting that he put his life on the line. He looked back to Harry and asked, "Once and for all, Harry, do I have your word that you will do all in your power to make me keep drinking?"

"Couldn't —?" Harry began.

"Do I have it?" he pressed on firmly.

"But—"

"Your word, Harry."

He seemed to be struggling within himself to do the right thing and he finally gasped out, "I—all right, but—"

That was enough for him. Before he could think of anything else to say, Albus lowered the goblet into the potion, and like he thought, the goblet was able to sink into the potion and filled it to the brim. Raising it up to his mouth, he looked to Harry's pale face and wide eyes as he said, "Your good health, Harry."

After taking one last look around him and clearing his mind, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back as he drank the liquid. It was worse than he had imagined.

It felt as if he was drinking boiling water, though it was tasteless it let a terrible burning pain in his mouth and all the way down this throat. In his mind's eye however, a familiar pair of blue eyes was looking at him underneath that mess of long, blonde hair…

"Professor?" he heard a voice say from somewhere close by as he felt his arm lower the goblet. "How do you feel?"

The burning pain continued to hurt, he wasn't sure if he could speak without crying out in pain, so instead he shook his head, not able to remember whose voice it was. But that wasn't the point here. He couldn't remember why it was suddenly so important, but he just knew that he had to keep drinking. So then, he felt his hand moving down and filling a second cup of the potion and drained it as well.

Ariana's face came clearly to mind, the room around them was also starting to become less foggy. He could hear other voices, but he couldn't make out who they were.

Instead he kept going… a third cup and he had almost finished the fourth when the image in his mind suddenly cleared completely and he knew where he was. He was so stunned, that he felt the cup starting to fall from his hands and he had to grab hold of something he couldn't see in front of him to keep him from falling.

Grindelwald was there, looking just has he did that horrible day that changed his life forever. As well as his little brother and sister—Grindelwald was standing over them, torturing them as they screamed in pain.

He tried to stop, to try and get this madness to end, but he felt his mouth being forced open and hands, other than his own, pouring more of the burning liquid into his mouth.

He could hear the voices around him, Grindelwald was laughing as his siblings screaming increased, and a voice in the far distance telling him to drink.

He could no longer feel anything but pain as his whole body felt as if was being smothered by smoke and the fire burned almost as terrible as the fire that took his hand. He couldn't think, couldn't remember, only the scene in front of him seemed to exist.

Ariana was sobbing on the floor, crying for help and he fell to his knees, shaking. It was his fault… all his fault…

He knew now what she truly wanted… he understood the pain of being alone, of thinking that no one else cares about you in this world. His sister… all she wanted was for someone to love her. He couldn't take it, he wanted it all to end… the pain inside him was nothing compared to seeing his sister and brother being tortured before his eyes, screaming at them to help him when he couldn't even move…

The whole time the images came faster and clearer than before—he was vaguely aware of hearing a voice in the distance, gently telling him that it would be alright, that whatever he was seeing wasn't real. What did that voice mean? How could any of this not be real? He was seeing it… feeling it all…

The burning pain was nothing compared to his mind being torn apart from seeing it all. He didn't know where he was anymore… but if he was alive, hell would be mercy over this. He began to scream, plead to die, that he didn't care anymore.

He tried to stand between them and Grindelwald, and he screamed out two words…

"KILL ME!"

"This- this one will!" gasped the voice, now sounding desperate—but Albus just couldn't tell who's voice it was anymore. "Just drink this… It'll be all over… all over!"

He couldn't help but trust this comforting voice and did what he was told before everything went dark and he faded into darkness. The burning had stopped and Ariana's dead blue eyes faded from his vision and he felt a sense of peace of falling into this warm night.

But he could hear desperate pleading, trying to wake him up. He didn't understand… wasn't he supposed to die? The voice was begging that he wake up, despite what it had promised before. Not sure why he did it, he turned back from the dark and he followed the voice back and his eyes opened. His vision so blurred and faded around him that he couldn't see… couldn't understand anything that was going on. But the voice was close at hand.

"Sir, are you-?"

"Water…?" he croaked out, desperate for a way to cool the fire that was burning him.

"Water…" the voice said at once and he felt the hand holding on to him leave. He was struggling for breath, the fire choking his insides and he wanted nothing more than to fade away right there. But then something cold hit his face and entered his mouth.

Water… cold and clear almost completely extinguished the fire. Suddenly he could move again, and was struggling to get up when he heard a yell of fear. His vision cleared as he looked up and saw Harry was there, being grabbed on all sides by pale, rotting hands… Inferi. An army of them had come out of the water, and each of them were pulling him back towards the dark water, attempting to drown him. It only took him a few seconds as his memory returned to him and he raised his wand high as he called the most powerful ring of fire that he could muster. The fire around them pushed them back at once, they dropped Harry and headed back to the cover of the darkness and cold. He gestured Harry to get back to the boat as he crawled back out of the water, shaking from head to foot. Trying hard not to pass out, Albus grabbed the Locket from the bottom of the basin.

Back in the boat, he kept the fire going, trying hard not to black out… keeping the fire up was taking all his power and concentration.

"Sir," Harry gasped next to him, "Sir, I forgot- about fire- they were coming at me and I panicked-"

For the first time, he sounded scared. Not that he blamed him for that. "Quite understandable," he was able to choke out, his voice very faint. Neither of them said anything else as they continued to sail across the lake. They reached the opposite shore with a little bump and Harry jumped out before he turned back to help him out.

As soon his he was free of the boat, he let the fire go out—no longer having the strength to keep it going anymore. To his relief, the Inferi stayed below the surface again. Leaning against the wall, he struggled for breath, the terrible burning in his chest back not as bad as before.

Images of what he had seen sent shame through him once again.

"I am weak…" he muttered, not sure if he was speaking to Harry or himself any longer.

"Don't worry, sir," Harry said, anxiously, "Don't worry, I'll get us back… Lean on me sir…"

He couldn't ever remember a time that he allowed himself to be so weak as to need the support of another just to help him to walk. He had always tried to go on his own, never to let anyone else see him weak… to never drag anyone down with him…

He had to fight the urge to laugh as he realized what was happening. Harry was bearing most of his weight as he guiding him back around the lake—like how one would when they had hurt their leg.

"The protection was… after all… very well-designed," he said in a hoarse voice, trying to give Harry a little insight about the potion. Though he was deeply afraid of what happened here—just what happened to him? Did he say anything? And if he did, what was it? He wanted to ask Harry what happened, but he couldn't bring himself to ask, shame washing through him at how easily he had falling prey here.

"One alone could not have done it…" he said instead, "One alone could not have survived. You did well - very well, Harry…"

"Don't talk now," he scolded, "Save your energy, sir… We'll soon be out of here…"

"The archway… would've sealed itself," he said, barely aware of what he was saying anymore, "My knife…?"

He just told him to be quiet again, letting him know that he had cut himself on the sharp rock. At that, he fell silent, knowing that he was wasting too much energy talking right now. It must've been truly terrible for him to do so… to keep giving him that terrible potion, even as he knew that he must've screamed that he wanted to die. But he shut his eyes with a little smile as they reached the wall and Harry brushed his bleeding arm on the wall so that it opened again. He knew now who's voice it had been that he heard…

He knew that he had been safe there the whole time.

Harry kept saying over and over again that it was going to be alright, like how a parent would to a child who had a bad nightmare.

"It's going to be alright, sir," Harry gasped as he helped him back into the frozen sea water, "We're nearly there… I can Apparate us both back… Don't worry."

Maybe the potion did something to his reasoning… but he felt his mouth speaking, no longer caring. He had already admitted he was weak, and this was the truth that he wanted him to know.

"I am not worried, Harry," he confessed, his voice a little stronger with the cold water helping to cool the burning, he smiled at him, "I am with you."

He let Harry lead them back so that they were under the clear, black sky once again, and he stared at them as if he'd never seen them before. Harry was able to pull him on top of the nearest rock. Soaking wet, Harry gripped his arm and stepped into a very shaky Apparation.

But it was enough to get them back to Hogsmeade. He tried to tell him how superb he did, but Harry didn't seem to be listening as he whispered that they did it, they got the Horcrux. He tried to smile but instead he staggered against him, his hand gripping his chest in terrible pain and Harry asked him anxiously if he was alright.

"I've been better," he admitted weakly, feeling the smile tugging at his mouth as he joked, "That potion… was no health drink…"

Just then his strength seemed to leave him and he sank to the ground. Harry reached over and grabbed hold of him to keep him from falling face-first onto the pavement. "Sir - It's OK, sir, you're going to be all right, don't worry -" he said at once as he looked around for an answer to what it was he was supposed to do. "We need to get you up to the school, sir… Madam Pomfrey…"

But Albus was shaking his head, croaking out that he needed to see Severus, but he couldn't walk very far in this condition. Harry nodded in understanding, looking around, trying to figure out what to do. But then, they heard running footsteps and when he looked up in time to see Madam Rosmerta, in her nightgown and slippers.

He sighed in relief when he saw her. "I saw you Apparate as I was pulling my bedroom curtains! Thank goodness, thank goodness, I couldn't think what to - but what's wrong with Albus?" she had run most of the way and stared at him with wide eyes, slightly glazed eyes.

"He's hurt," said Harry hurriedly, asking if she could help him get him to the Three Broomsticks as he went up to the school for help.

But Rosmerta looked stricken at the thought of him going up there and cried out, "You can't go up there alone! Don't you realize - haven't you seen -?"

Harry ignored her for a moment, but Albus didn't like the sound of it and asked her what was wrong. She pointed a shaking finger to the sky and croaked out, "The - the Dark Mark, Albus."

It was at that moment Albus felt the rush of fear and dread going through him when he looked. She was right… hanging up in the sky above the tallest tower was the infamous blazing green skull with a serpent tongue, the mark Death Eaters left behind whenever they had entered a building… where they…?

Struggling back to his feet, having to hold onto Harry to stand up, he asked her quickly when it appeared and she struggled, suggesting just minutes ago perhaps.

Albus somehow found energy he never knew he had, standing up he gasped that they had to get back there at once. He looked to Rosmerta and asked if she had any brooms that they could use to get up there.

"I've got a couple behind the bar," she said, looking very frightened. "Shall I run and fetch -?"

He shook his head, letting her know that Harry could do it. Just as he had done almost three years ago, he called two brooms to them, racing towards them. He mounted the one nearest him, gave Rosmerta some orders on what to do before he turned to Harry and told him to put his cloak on.

He supposed that he should've seen this coming. He knew that Draco had been working all year for a way to kill him, but to think that he could actually bring Death Eaters into the school…? He shook his head hard, trying to clear it as Harry joined him on the second broom and they took off from the ground. No longer feeling the blissful peace that he usually had when he flew… only fear and panic running through him.

Fighting hard to stay awake, he flew on, bent low over the broom and his long hair flying behind him. He began casting the counter spells, undoing the protection that he put up himself so that they could enter without any problems.

'_Please… please, please, please… don't let anyone be dead,'_ he thought to himself. This was war, and he knew that people had to die, but these were his students! Children inside this castle, and he didn't want to imagine which of the other Death Eaters here.

They landed, and Albus was forced to lean against the ramparts to keep himself falling, the pain in his chest suddenly so terrible that he felt close to passing out. Everything spun around him as Harry landed next to him… it was deserted… and that was when he realized the horrible truth.

"What does it mean?" Harry asked suddenly. "Is it the real Mark? Has someone definitely been - Professor?"

But Albus was kicking himself once again for falling in such an obvious trap. Clutching his chest, he looked to Harry, and said weakly for him to bring Severus to him… not to speak to anyone else and not to remove his cloak.

Harry looked ready to argue, but he reminded him of his promise. He didn't know how much more time he had here… but he knew that he had reached the end of the line here. His old body just couldn't keep up any longer…

Gasping for breath, he knew that he had to at least get Harry out of here before it happened. He knew that he was going to die here, and the last thing he wanted was for Harry to see that. Hoping that Harry would obey this one order without any complaint, he reached his hand into his pocket as Harry hurried over to the door… but just then they heard running footsteps coming up. He knew that Harry was looking at him, and he nodded for him to move back.

'_Forgive me… Harry…'_ Albus thought as he raised his wand and wordlessly immobilized him. Just then, he heard a familiar voice call out, "Expelliarmus!"

It had only taken him a brief moment to stop Harry, but it provided Draco with the necessary opportunity to disarm him and he felt his own sense of horror as the Elder Wand went spinning out of his hand.

But that wasn't important any longer…

"Good evening, Draco," he whispered, careful to stay calm as he spoke, not wishing to forewarn him—or Harry—of what he knew was going to come. Instead, he spoke to Draco, who informed him about how he had smuggled the Death Eaters into his school through the magic cabinet inside the Room of Requirements and it turned out that Rosmerta was under the Imperius Curse all this time.

His hands shaking, Draco called out, "Right under your nose and you never realized!"

"Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy," he answered politely to him, straining to keep his voice even. After a stretched minute, during which Draco said and did nothing, he smiled gently, letting him know the hard truth, "Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."

"How do you know?" he demanded loudly, realizing that he sounded a little childish. It was then that he that he was right… his soul was still clean. He had been so pressured into joining the Death Eaters and threatened by Voldemort that he felt that he had no other choice and this was all he could do to protect his parents.

"You don't know what I'm capable of," Draco went on, and it was clear to him that he was trying to convince himself more than him, "you don't know what I've done."

"Oh, yes, I do," Albus answered and he told that he was aware of it all—fighting hard not to look into the corner that he knew Harry too be. But he was aware the whole time that in his feeble attempts to murder him, that he had almost ended up killing Katie and Ron. "…so feeble, to be honest," he whispered, slowly slipping even further down the wall, "that I wonder whether your heart has been really in it…"

Draco was getting angry once again, his hand shaking worse than ever as he tried to argue that he had been dedicated to his mission, but then they heard the sounds of the battle below them.

"Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone," he said softly, hoping against hope that no one had been killed. "I have no wand at the moment… I cannot defend myself."

And yet, Draco was still frozen, insisting that he wasn't afraid that he should be the one begging for his life.

The pain inside him had reached a point that it was almost unbearable and he had to fight the scream that was building in his throat. Instead, he said as calmly as he could, "I don't think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe."

He continued to try and talk to Draco, to let him see that it wasn't too late, that he still had a choice here. He was trying to bid time… to wait for Severus to hurry and finish the job before Draco was forced to do so. He wouldn't let a young man ruin his soul because of him.

In a way to draw this out, he asked how he did it, and Draco seemed to cling to the question. He explained that he used the idea of the enchanted coins to communicate with Rosmerta, while controlling her with the Imperius Curse. He had gotten the idea from 'Dumbledore's Army' last year. He listened with great interest, even as he was slowly falling to the ground, unable to stay upright anymore. Draco mentioned the poisoned mead, an initiative he said he had got from "the Mudblood Granger".

"Please do not use that offensive word in front of me," he said firmly and here, Draco actually laughed wildly.

"You care about me saying 'Mudblood' when I'm about to kill you?" he demanded.

Albus couldn't bring himself to be too angry with him. This was just how young Draco was raised… he was brought up hating… and that was just the most tragic in his part. Struggling to stay up and fighting off the pain, he said, "But as for being about to kill me, Draco, you have had several long minutes now. We are quite alone. I am more defenseless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted…"

He then asked, trying to continue to get him into talking more. He confirmed some of his fears by telling him that somebody was killed. Fighting hard against the waves of emotion welling up inside him, he continued to try and discuss the options that he still had left.

"_My_ options!" Draco yelled out, sounding furious as he then began to rant, almost fearfully, "I'm standing here with a wand – I'm about to kill you –"

"My dear boy, let us have no more pretense about that," he interrupted him gently, determined to show him that he still had a choice, that he truly didn't have to do this. "If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first Disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."

"I haven't got any options!" Draco finally yelled out, losing all previous cool that he had tried to put up. He admitted that he was stuck and that there was no other way out for him but to do this. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

"I appreciate the difficulty of your situation," he answered softly, his heart truly going out to him. "I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realized that I suspected you," he confessed as Draco flinched at hearing his master's name. "I can help you, Draco."

"No, you can't!" Draco yelled, his whole body trembling as if he was cold, "Nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me. I've got no choice."

It was a relief to hear… Draco came out and told him that he truly didn't want to do this. But his desire to save his family overwhelmed everything else until this moment. Albus knew better than anyone that the world wasn't split into Saints and Devils… sometimes good people did bad things… and even sometimes bad people do good things… but most of the time, he learned that good people did bad things for good reasons.

And so Albus told him that he would help him… if he wanted it. "Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban…. when the time comes we can protect him too… come over to the right side, Draco… you are not a killer…"

Draco glared at him, his eyes narrowed as he asked slowly, trying to buy himself a little more time to think of an answer to this tempting offer, "But I got this far, didn't I? They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here… and you're in my power… I'm the one with the wand… you're at my mercy."

Albus held his head high and told him the hard truth. "No, Draco, it is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now."

Draco only continued to look at him fearfully before, at long last, he lowered his wand. But at that moment, they heard more footsteps behind them and soon they were joined by several other Death Eaters. The siblings Amycus, Alecto he recognized at once—but his vision was going and he was having a hard time trying to see the two behind them.

When they began to praise Draco for disarming him, he acknowledged them as politely as he could, "Good evening, Amycus. And you've brought Alecto too… charming…"

Alecto laughed. "Think your little jokes'll help you on your death bed, then?"

"Jokes? No, no, these are manners," he answered, something that they never seemed to have learned. Just then, he recognized one of the other Death Eaters and he had to bite back a groan. Greyback was there, blood dripping from his face as he urged Draco to hurry up and kill him.

He began a slight talk with him, still hoping that Severus would show up soon. He tried to hide some of his disgust to hear that Fenrir had developed a taste for humans that couldn't be satisfied once a month and the werewolf began to brag about it. "Shocks you, that, does it?" he grinned, "Frightens you?"

Still forcing calm, he said, "Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little."

The talking was soon wearing thin on them all, the other Death Eaters were now prompting Draco to hurry up and do it… to kill him so that they could leave. Draco was still frozen where he stood, looking at him as if asking for help now. The other Death Eaters didn't seem to understand what the problem was… and they were now starting to argue among themselves on who will be the one to kill him. He was growing nervous, for a moment thinking that he would be tortured to death before Severus even arrived, or worse, they would force Draco to do so. But to his relief, just a few minutes later, Severus finally arrived, looking around at them all.

"We've got a problem, Snape," Amycus said at once, pointing to Draco, who continued to just stand there. Severus didn't move for a moment before he slowly walked to the head of the group, looking only at me. His wand was clutched tightly in his hand, staring down at him… he could see the hesitation, the self-hatred in Severus's eyes…

"Severus…" he croaked out, vaguely aware that he was now begging. He had to do this. If he failed to do this, not only would he be killed by the other Death Eaters, but they would lose their one and only spy on Voldemort's side… as well as Draco paying the ultimate price for his failure.

Besides…

His eyes once more glanced to the corner where Harry was once again. He shut his eyes for the briefest of moments._ 'Don't worry, Harry…' _he thought,_ 'the potion won't be what kills me.'_

"Severus… please…" he pleaded, hoping for it to end quickly for both of them. Severus slowly raised the wand, looking directly at him, and it seemed to take all the courage he had to do so. As he did so, he thought back to Harry once again. He felt sick with himself for forcing him to watch this, knowing that he wouldn't be able to help him any longer.

One would think they had done this to plan for death under the assumption that there is no worse end to one's life… but living in a world with guilt and regret weighing you down was much worse. In a way, they were doing him the greatest favor by finally setting him free. He was dying… and he wasn't ashamed to admit it.

He remembered the day that he first met young Tom… thinking about it now, he could see that Hogwarts had created a monster by allowing him to come. A young and brilliant mind… yet one so dark that it could never hope to have a long and happy life that we all deserve.

Harry…

This young man is strong enough to finish it all… what he should never had let happen in the first place. He felt a terrible agony go through him as he thought of the weight that he would have to bear alone.

He once said to Harry himself that he cared about him too much. That he cared more for his happiness than him knowing the truth; more for his peace of mind than his plan, more for his life than the lives that would be lost if the plan failed. And he meant those words… he acted exactly as any fool who cared about someone would act.

Many parents likewise dream that their children will succeed where they have failed. They hope the lessons they learned will permit their children to move forward. And for him, that was his greatest wish here… he wanted Harry to learn from his own mistakes and surpass them. Right now his greatest fear was that Harry would walk along the same road that he once did and make the same errors.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

A split second before the curse hit him, he smiled at Severus… and then he felt it collide with his chest, sending him flying backwards and over the ramparts. As he hung suspended in mid-air, for a split instant he could see through Harry's cloak and see his own eyes wide with horror.

Almost at once darkness overcame his eyes as he could feel everything around him becoming numb, the pain vanishing almost at once. He had felt old in that tower… far older than he ever felt in his life, and yet now he felt completely empty at this moment. They say that your life flashes before your eyes before you die and that was true. He thought back to his years here, both as a student, and as a teacher. The long and happy years that this castle had been his home…

Over the years he had made many friends, Muggle and Wizard both, he had done his best to pass on what he knew to the next generation… he had seen and done so much… he suddenly felt so tired… he had grown weary of life.

He had a lot of regrets and disappointments… things that he had done that were far too late to ever change. He once said to an innocent young boy that 'To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.'

And he meant it. He was relieved to finally leave behind the pains of life… he was tired of life, he was ready to finally rest before starting that next adventure… yet, why did he feel as if he took the easy way out?

He remembered once wishing for someone else to relieve him of all responsibility. To have been free to do what he wanted… and now Harry was going to have to make the choice. People have said it to him for a long time now… that they were startled at the resemblance between him and Harry. That's what he was so afraid of… because he knew that it was true. Harry was so like, yet unlike him, that it was frightening. He had met so many people in his life, but none of them had ever confused him as much as the young man who he was now leaving behind.

Just like his little sister…

Was it possible that the remarkable resemblance between Harry and Ariana was what made him grow to be so protective of him over the years? That by protecting him he could somehow feel like he was making it up to Ariana for his selfishness? He just didn't know anymore… but he trusted him.

He remembered when they were leaving the cave and he couldn't even walk anymore. He was forced to lean on Harry, and he felt the strength and determination rising from him to get them both out of that mess alive. For the first time, he wasn't doing the protecting, but was allowing someone else to protect him… in that moment he realized that he fully trusted Harry with his life…

It seemed to have taken an age to fall…

He was over the edge and he could see the whole scene in front of him. Severus's face full of self-loathing at what he was forced to do, the Death Eaters—each former students—all smiling triumphantly, Draco Malfoy staring in terror at what he had been forced to see…

And Harry… still trapped by the spell that he had cast.

He hoped that he would understand that it was for the best… that he could see that it was for his own good… though he knew that he could never ask for forgiveness for being forced to witness his own death—the one person he didn't want it to see. He was now begging inside his own head, hoping that he could hear him and understand that it was to keep both him and Draco safe… that if the two had been fighting by the time that the Death Eaters arrived then it would've ruined everything.

As he felt his life fading from his body, he understood what his greatest regret was. It wasn't because of trusting too much… it was the lack of trust. That he couldn't ever feel like he could completely trust another, despite what he felt for them.

There were so many things he did not get to tell him, so much he did not explain about his life or his past or what he speculated might be coming. This young man had so little faith and confidence in himself when he first arrived… since then he had done his best to teach him and guide him through the darkness until he was ready to walk forward on his own, without another there to protect him.

He had always held such high hopes for Harry… trusting him more than he had trusted another since he had been a very young man himself. And he was glad that he got to spend his last few hours with him as well…

He felt tears burning his eyes and a smile appeared on his mouth as he was able to stare past the green skull and up to the countless stars above him. He felt… he truly felt that he was leaving this world in the best capable hands as possible.

'_My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore…' _he thought to himself, _'And though I have lived through much suffering and countless regrets… I've still had a marvelous life.'_

He shut his eyes and the darkness came for good this time. It had come faster and easier than he thought… much easier than falling asleep in fact. And as his spirit faded away, leaving this world behind him, a single sentence suddenly returned to him…

_"He accused me of being 'Dumbledore's man through and through'… I told him I was."_

In the end… everyone dies… both the strong and the weak… the kind and the greedy… the rich and the poor…

"And even me…" he whispered.

And then that lifeless body hit the ground… but Albus Dumbledore was beyond felling pain as his spirit was freed at long last from his long suffering.

**(How was it? Dumbledore's finally died and I actually felt the need to cry while I was writing this. While I'm not making any promises, stick around to see what I've got planned next. Hope you enjoyed it… and though I plan on doing another chapter before the new year, in case I don't get it up before the end of the year, please enjoy this as a X-mas present…)**


	61. Gone… But Not Forgotten

**Chapter 61: Gone… But Not Forgotten**

It happened and was over so quickly that all he knew for sure was that he was currently lying on his back in a quiet place. He was alone, that much he knew for sure, but he wasn't particularly sure if he was there himself. All he knew was that he was laying on some plain surface that was neither hot nor cold… after what seemed like an eternity, he opened his eyes and realized that he was still in some form.

He slowly sat up, realizing that he wasn't wearing anything… not even his glasses. But this didn't bother him as he knew that he was completely alone. How he knew, he wasn't sure, but he somehow knew that this was true.

He glanced around at the room he was in… a large, circular room… a room that he knew anywhere… his office.

But it was different too.

His desk was wear it had always been, as well as several tables that normally held the magical instruments though they were bare now. There weren't any portraits on the walls, and instead here was a faint cloud vapor glittering around him that hadn't formed to the surrounding just yet.

He got to his feet, all the pain and ache he had felt before were gone. He was so taken aback by the lack of pain that he was almost a little dizzy. He looked at his body, all scars and injuries he had gotten over his long life were gone and he felt oddly light, as if he could leap over tall buildings in a single bound like Superman in the Muggle comics. He laughed a little at that as he finally wished he had his cloak here with him.

But no sooner had he thought that did some robes appear on his desk. Not at all surprised, though he wasn't expecting it, he went over to the soft, clean, and warm midnight blue robes and pulled them on. He stared above him at a beautiful light that seemed to come from all over—everything here felt so bright and clean.

He looked around several more times before he concluded that everyone else that had to have been here must have moved on. This was like a pseudo space… an in-between world… though he didn't know where the answer had been coming from, he just knew he was right. This was a place where you could wait for your loved ones to join you so that you could pass on together.

Though he had no proof, he didn't need it. He smiled a little as he had to fight the urge to leave as well… to see his mother and father… and Ariana once again. As badly as he wanted to, he knew that he couldn't go just yet. He still had to stay long enough to see this war through to the end. He had to do everything in his power to keep away from the urge.

He owed it to Harry to remain until the end.

He sat down at the desk, feeling unusually warm and comfortable. He would wait here until he had a chance to speak to Harry one more time. He had done his best to prepare the boy and everyone else for the coming storm, but there was no way of knowing anything for sure until it happened.

He slowly started to dream for a moment. He could see everything going on in the castle now couldn't he? He could see Harry there in his office, his old office back at Hogwarts, with Minerva as he explained to her how the poison and the necklace got into the castle, as well as how poor Rosmerta was under the Imperius Curse.

He was glad that Rosmerta wouldn't be punished for doing something against her will. He leaned back even further in his chair, only vaguely wondering how he was dreaming all this anyway. It was like he was watching this inside his Pensieve though he knew that it wasn't the past… it was right here and now that he was watching. He stood back as the door opened and Professors Sprout, Flitwick, and Slughorn came in with Hagrid weeping behind them.

Albus's heart went out to Hagrid most of all when he saw his teachers. Out of all of them, he knew that Hagrid would take his death the hardest. Slughorn was shaking, gasping out that he had taught Snape; that he thought he knew him.

Albus shook his head. He doubted anyone but Severus knew the real Severus Snape… not even he knew the whole person. But things seemed to have gotten worse when Everard informed Minerva that Rufus Scrimgeour was coming here and Albus sighed. As if they didn't have enough time to plan for anything before Rufus got here.

"Thank you, Everard," said Minerva, and she turned quickly to her teachers. "I want to talk about what happens to Hogwarts before he gets here," she said quickly. "Personally, I am not convinced that the school should reopen next year. The death of the headmaster at the hands of one of our colleagues is a terrible stain upon Hogwarts's history. It is horrible."

'_Minerva…'_ Albus thought sadly. He didn't want her to have to close down the school no matter what happened. It's in times like this that they need a place where they can be with people they know and trust.

He was happy that Pomona thought the same. "I'm sure that Dumbledore would've wanted the school to remain open," she said firmly, "I feel that if a single pupil wants to come, then the school ought to remain open for that pupil."

"Yes," Horace said, "But… _will_ we have a single pupil after this? Parents will want to keep their children at home and I can't say I blame them. Personally, I don't think we're in more danger at Hogwarts than we are anywhere else, but you can't expect mothers to think like that. They'll want to keep their families together, it's only natural."

That was true… after all, it was only natural that mothers wanted to keep their children with them where they feel that they could protect them. His mother was a prime example after all… he sighed, still having to fight the longing to go on and see them all again. No, he waited countless decades, he could wait a little longer.

Minerva nodded to that. "I agree," she said, "And in any case, it is not true to say that Dumbledore never envisaged a situation in which Hogwarts might close. When the Chamber of Secrets reopened he considered the closure of the school — and I must say that Professor Dumbledore's murder is more disturbing to me than the idea of Slytherin's monster living undetected in the bowels of the castle…"

Maybe… but the true monster lies outside these walls this time. He couldn't ever imagine the school closing because of him. This was the future generation of witches and wizards they were talking about… he wanted Hogwarts to live on even after he was long gone. Filius was sporting bruises from his run in with Severus, but squeaked out that they should consult the governors before they make any decisions.

Minerva nodded grimly to that before she turned back to Hagrid. "Hagrid, you haven't said anything," she said gently. "What are your views, ought Hogwarts to remain open?"

Albus smiled at seeing Hagrid crying, truly touched by how much he had cared. Hagrid mustered up his courage and gulped down as best as he could, "I dunno, Professor… that's fer the Heads of House an the headmistress ter decide…"

'_Hagrid…'_ he thought, wishing that he could comfort him, aching inside knowing that the reason he was hurting so much was because of him.

"Professor Dumbledore always valued your views," Minerva said and they all nodded with her, "and so do I."

Tears still falling, but Hagrid gave his opinion. That Hogwarts was his home, and it had been since he was thirteen… he would stay. And if there were any students who wanted him to teach them he'd do it… but he confessed the fear of having a Hogwarts without Dumbledore.

But Hogwarts was never about _him_, Albus knew that. He was never what made Hogwarts special. It was all the people who lived inside these walls that made it a magical place.

Minerva glanced out the windows and agreed with Filius to consult the governors before they could make any final decisions. They were planning to send them home tomorrow morning if they had to, but what Harry said touched his soul…

"What about Dumbledore's funeral?" he asked, with a touch of anger.

Minerva seemed to start losing some of her strength at that question, feebly croaking out that he knew that it had been his last wish to be buried here at Hogwarts. Albus nodded, knowing that though he would've wanted to be buried with his family, and he knew that he didn't deserve to be after deserting them in the way that he had. They all talked about it and in the end, they all agreed that they would let the students stay long enough to attend the funeral if they had wanted to.

He was touched by each and every one of them, wishing that he could tell them how much that they all meant to him. But he also knew that it was too late now… for they could no longer hear him. Harry left at once when he had heard that Rufus was here and Minerva was only too happy to let him go, and she added for him to do so quickly.

Albus had followed Harry back to the common room, wanting to know about the horcrux… he had failed to tell him how to destroy it, but he couldn't help but shake the bad feeling that something was wrong with it.

He watched the meeting with Harry and Ron as if he were in the room with them. Ron asked him if he had managed to get it, but Harry shook his head and Albus felt as if his insides had plummeted. No… he was sure that he had grabbed it… they had to have it unless…?

"No," said Harry. "Someone had already taken it and left a fake in its place."

And when Ron looked as stunned as he felt, Harry pulled out the locket and held it out for him to take and Albus groaned as he read the letter that was signed, R.A.B…

Albus opened his eyes and was back in the place that was his office, but not like his office. "I'm so sorry, Harry…" he whispered, feeling grief strike his heart for subjecting Harry to a traumatic event like that for nothing.

He had kept a close watch on Hogwarts the following days. Though it sadden him to see parents coming in and taking their children home early… just because he was gone didn't mean that the school was completely unsafe. Though he had to admit that they had good reason… one of the teachers apparently murdered the Headmaster. But it meant the world to him that most students decided to stay until after the funeral. Friends and acquaintances he knew from over the years were also pouring into Hogsmeade so that they could give their last respects to him.

Albus shook his head grimly at that when he saw that. Though touched, he never wanted to have something so elaborate for his funeral… especially if most of them were coming because they felt they _had_ to. He would've been happier with just a small gathering of people that he was close to. Though it warmed him to see when Madame Maxime had come all the way from Beauxbatons to be here… he knew that she would be here for Hagrid, who had been in tears the whole time since he had died, and he hoped that she would be able to offer him comfort.

However, the one person he kept diligent watch over of course was Harry.

He watched as he spent all of his time with Ron and Hermione and… he was pleased to see… Ginny Weasley. Whenever he was with her, he could see that Harry seemed to forget all about the war and his part in it, Albus chuckled at seeing it… it brought him so much happiness to see how happy he was here with her, though he ached inside knowing that it wasn't going to last much longer… knowing Harry, he'd do what he felt was the right thing no matter how painful it was for him.

But still, he preferred to see this over seeing the Ministry officials and Rufus temporarily staying at Hogwarts. Harry always made sure to go out of his way to stay as far away from them as he could. The Ministry had always wanted too much information on what he had been doing and they probably thought that now that he was gone, Harry would give in to pressure and tell them.

He smirked at that. Harry was just as stubborn as he was, so trying to get him to listen wasn't going to be easy. Perhaps if the Ministry had been more willing to listen, he would've told them something. But he knew better than anyone that the Ministry these days were uninterested in informing the people… with how hard they worked to cover things up these days.

Another good thing that he saw was that Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley were still planning on getting married. Despite being attacked by Grayback, Fleur looked at him as if she couldn't see the scars covering his face and he beamed back at her like she was a bright light—staring at the other as if they were the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. Even Molly seem to have given in and accepted the fact that they were getting married.

He knew that she had always resented this fact… but he had a feeling that it was more along the lines of her marrying her first-born rather than her actually disliking Fleur. But seeing how she was going to stand by his side no matter what, made her realize that there was no one else in this world that she rather have with her son.

Albus smiled, "A hard lesson for any parent to learn, but an important one." It renewed his hope that there was no greater force in this world than love… and that was what was needed for this world. Far too much hatred, and not enough love…

Speaking of love, he also kept a watch over young Draco Malfoy, and how he did everything for the love of his parents. Draco had been spared Voldemort's wrath for figuring out a way to get the other Death Eaters inside the castle, but his family was still walking on thin ice. It would only take one more mistake on the Malfoy's part to be killed… and he was glad to see that Draco seemed to regret his decision to join them.

He honestly thought that it would be like how he used to walk around the school… with everyone afraid of him and bossing others around. But he was given the harsh reality of what being a servant of Voldemort was.

The day of his funeral, he watched the whole thing with interest, it was time to head to the grounds and he stood back as he watched. He was glad to see that it was a beautiful summer day, glad that the weather wasn't affecting everyone's solemn mood. Hundreds of chairs had been set up with aisle down the middle, as if this were a wedding… he only wished that it was a happy occasion rather than a sad.

Friends and former students were all gathered around already. Every single one he knew and smiled fondly at the memories he had. Whenever he first met a student the night they come to Hogwarts, he saw them as his children… born anew, each with a clean slate no matter who they are or where they come from.

He cared about each and every single one of them as if they were his own…

He frowned sadly as he remembered teaching Tom. Even as a child, he didn't believe that Tom was truly evil… he was scarred and angry, yes… but no one is born evil.

He had seen so much in his long life, good and bad… he had gotten a glimpse of what this world will become if it stayed on this path. The Ministry had never been perfect, but they were in denial about what is happening right in front of them. People were dying, people who were once happy and content with their lives who had never hurt a living soul, were getting killed and the Ministry was just too selfish to admit it.

But he reminded himself that there were still good in these dark times.

He looked up and beamed at the sight of seeing Remus and Nymphadora sitting together, holding hands… and Dora brought out of her depression. Molly and Arthur were sitting together as Molly wiped at her tear-filled eyes, her husband's arm around her shoulders. Bill was being supported by Fleur, their hands never leaving the other as the twins Fred and George were being uncharacteristically quiet as they watched with grim expressions. Madame Maxime was looking around for Hagrid, while other couples were all reaching out for their partners for support.

Seeing these sights were enough to comfort him. He barely acknowledged seeing people like Cornelius, Rita Skeeter, and even Dolores Umbridge there… with Dolores looking a little smug at the thought of his death. Though it did cause him to laugh a little when she spotted Firenze and turned as white as any of the ghosts before she moved away.

Just then he could hear familiar singing come from behind him and he looked to see that the merfolk of the lake were coming up, singing their song of grief… they sounding truly sorry for his death.

_Nameless people are always coming and going,  
Life like the tides are always ebbing and flowing,  
Though we carry on as we do try,  
A single tear is all it takes to cry._

_Eyes once filled with life and a smile for all,  
It's hard to believe that this light was doomed to fall._

_Though sadness is what I feel, and this aching pain,  
We know that his soul will rise again._

_Though as much as we wish for might,  
We know that no magic can grant this wish tonight._

_Friends are always coming and going,  
Years, like tides, are always ebbing and flowing.  
Though we carry on as we do try,  
It still takes a single tear to cry._

He felt tears come to his own eyes at the song, and silently thanked all the merfolk for their kind words. All of them dear friends to him, and he felt honored that they thought so highly of him. And finally, he looked up to see that Hagrid was up the aisle with something wrapped in a purple velvet cloth with golden stars… his body.

It was just a body… a lifeless corpse that they had no reason to cry over. An old and useless life that was finally put out of his suffering. It wasn't until this moment however did Albus fully realize that he was no longer a part of this world, no longer could he say anything to the people he cared for and loved that remained. But he was still here, watching over them.

He watched as Hagrid placed his body on the table before he sat down at his seat, touched that was blowing his nose so loudly despite what others were glaring at him. But he didn't mind… at least he knew there was one who truly mourned his passing. He smiled as Grawp was there, his head bowed in respect, almost human… indeed, more human than some people that he could think of. He couldn't help but laugh a little when Grawp patted Hagrid's head so hard that the chair broke and he fell to the ground.

The funeral went on, some people speaking words that didn't mean much to him. Words like _nobility of_ _spirit_ or _intellectual contribution_… those words were nothing to him for he wasn't anything like that. He watched with a grim expression as the speeches were wrapped up, and a tomb had been created to cover his body… smiling at the form of a phoenix from the smoke fly joyfully into the sky…

He felt free as he watched it, even as the shower of arrows from the sky fell from the centaurs from the cover of the trees. He was about to open his eyes and return to limbo when he spotted Rufus getting up quickly from his seat when the others were all leaving. Following his gaze, he spotted where he was going and followed after him.

"Harry!" he called and Harry, who was walking along the side of the lake, glanced back, not looking at all pleased to see him limp towards him. "I've been hoping to have a word… do you mind if I walk a little way with you?"

Albus was grim, knowing that he was right in thinking that they could try and take advantage of Harry now that he was no longer here. But he knew better than that… Harry didn't need someone to speak for him anymore, and he knew he hadn't need anyone for that for a long time.

Harry was as polite as ever, walking next to him as Scrimgeour began talking about how a terrible tragedy it was over his death. How he knew that he, Dumbledore, had been a great wizard despite their differences, but Harry merely looked annoyed as he asked what he wanted, not in the mood for all this sympathetically.

Albus chuckled a little there at the look on Rufus's face as he tried to go on, how he knew how devastated that he must've been. "I know that you were very close to Dumbledore. I think you may have been his favorite pupil ever. The bond between the two of you —"

Albus felt the usual stabs of pain at those words, trying not to think how true that was.

Harry however seemed to have had enough, clearly not in the mood to talk. He stopped and looked up at Rufus, asking what he wanted. Rufus stopped as well and informed him, "The word is that you were with him when he left the school the night that he died."

"Whose word?" Harry asked at once as Rufus then told him that the Ministry can add up. Two broomsticks at the top of the tower and that someone had to stun that Death Eater. Harry however merely said firmly that he went with Dumbledore somewhere, but that it wasn't his business.

Despite his worry, Albus couldn't help but smile with pride as he watched this. Rufus looked irritated with this, but there wasn't anything he could do about forcing Harry to tell him. "Such loyalty is admirable, of course," he said jerkily, "but Dumbledore is gone, Harry. He's gone."

Harry suddenly smiled sadly to himself as he whispered, more to himself than to Rufus, "He will only be gone from the school when none here are loyal to him."

Albus felt as though his insides were warming up at those words, remembering that they had been the exact words he said to him before when the school looked as if it would be closed. Harry wasn't alone then, and he wasn't alone now. Rufus was trying to tell him that not even Dumbledore could come back, but Harry shook his head in annoyance. He already knew this, but merely said that he wouldn't understand and that he had nothing to tell him. Rufus then offered to put a few Aurors to protect him, but Harry just laughed at that this time.

"Voldemort wants to kill me himself and Aurors won't stop him," he informed him, "So thanks for the offer, but no thanks."

Rufus was looking as though he'd love nothing more than to curse Harry then and there. "So," he said in a voice cold as ice. "The request I made to you at Christmas?"

"Is as worthless now as it was then," Albus answered knowingly.

"What request?" Harry asked as he thought it over, "Oh yeah… the one where I tell the world what a great job you're doing in exchange for — "

"— for raising everyone's morale!" snapped Scrimgeour.

"Maybe, Rufus," Albus said softly, knowing that there wasn't any point in speaking since he knew they couldn't hear him, "You should try to do that… for that is supposed to be your job; not Harry's."

Harry looked back at him and asked, "Released Stan Shunpike yet?"

Albus burst out laughing at the purple color on Rufus's face, but he felt his heart soar at what he heard next. "Dumbledore's man through and through," said Harry. "That's right."

He wanted to reach out and thank Harry for all this, wanting to let him know that he didn't deserve it, but was too selfish not to want it. Rufus left after that as Ron and Hermione ran up to catch up with Harry as they stood under the shade of their favorite beech tree.

"What did Scrimgeour want?" Hermione asked him quietly. When Harry told them, Ron looked furious as he said to Hermione to let him go back and hit Percy. When she told him no and grabbed his arm, he retorted that it would make him feel better. He laughed along with Harry before the three began to talk about their plans. Harry then told them that he wasn't going to come back next year even if it remained opened.

Albus wasn't surprised. He knew that Harry would chose that. He told them that he wanted to go back to Godric's Hallow, and after that he was going to go track down the rest of the Horcurxes. Albus frowned. He didn't want Harry to do this just because he wanted him to, he wanted him to do this and to understand that he was the only person who could do this. But he felt relief as Hermione and Ron promised him that they would be there with him—going wherever he was going.

Harry naturally tried to tell them no, but they shook their heads, reminding him that there was too late to turn back. They were going with him. But they had to go back to the Burrow before anything else for Bill and Fleur's wedding.

He looked startled before he smiled. "Yeah, we shouldn't miss that," he said finally.

Albus opened his eyes and was back in that strange place. It felt like he had spent so much time here already, but what if he spent no time here at all? What if time stopped? He still wanted to move on, it was painful to remain here waiting, almost choking on sadness. But he needed to speak to Harry again, all he wanted was to see him and have a chance to tell him everything and then he would leave.

And after hearing what he told Rufus, he owed it to Harry. He once said to him that he'd never leave until there was no one left loyal to him. He was still back there because there were those who hadn't left him. But why were they so sad? Why did they all feel that everything was hopeless when nothing had changed? He knew that they couldn't see or hear him, yet he could see and hear them perfectly when he shut his eyes and dreamt. It pained him to see them all so miserable over him…

Harry once said to him that he didn't know how it felt, that he couldn't understand, but he knew better than anyone what it felt like to lose someone close to you. He had lived like it… losing many people that felt like knife wounds in his heart.

It was funny how it took his own death for him to see that we need to leave the past in the past where it belongs. Harry especially needs to learn that for he is already carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders and he needs to focus on the future.

He sighed, hoping that Harry could one day forgive him for abandoning him now, if he could do everything instead of Harry, he'd do it… so that he wouldn't have to suffer anymore.

So he stayed and watched, pacing the twinkling mists as his anxiety sometimes sit in. He kept an eye on everyone… just having to close his eyes and dream to see them… time went on and things seemed to be growing worse with every day. People would come through here all the time, most he knew and recognized, some he didn't. But each one of them were added causalities to this senseless war. He would stand to greet them and wave them off… most decided to wander the mist and wait to be reunited with their loved ones before they moved on… but some did go right away. Either way, they walked on through the mist and he hadn't seen them since.

It was almost time to move Harry from Privet Drive and his portrait self came up with the idea of using decoys to ensure Harry's safety, which Severus agreed to. Severus was then able to plant the idea into Mundungus's mind to use Polyjuice Potion with the Order… to make him forget that he had been the one to suggest it before he left to go to a meeting…

Albus sighed grimly after sitting in on the meeting before he opened his eyes and stood to greet her. A middle-aged woman, her sandy hair with a slight bit of gray, dressed in magenta robes was coming towards him. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw him and went running up to wrap her arms around him in a big hug—which he was only too happy to return. "My dear Charity," he said warmly.

Professor Burbage stood back and told him miserably what happened. How she was in her home before the Death Eaters arrived. She started to cry as she clung onto him, and told them about her time at Malfoy Manor and about Severus.

"He… he just let me die didn't he?!" she sobbed out and Albus nodded sadly as he held her tightly.

"I know all about that, my dear," he told her regretfully. "And it pains me that I couldn't help you as well. But please don't blame Severus."

"He didn't do anything!" she told him tearfully. "I trusted him, but he…?"

"He couldn't have done anything," Albus informed her, holding onto her shoulders gently. "He couldn't help you anymore than I had. Because he needed Voldemort to trust him… and we both know that had he had tried to help, the outcome would've been the same… only he would've been killed as well."

She stared at him as he told her the whole truth… that he had asked Severus to kill him. She sighed at that and answered, "You know… I couldn't ever truly believe that he wanted to kill you. Now I see why. You were dying all along. But why didn't you tell us all as well?"

"I wish I could've," Albus sighed. "I've left behind many regrets. But there is nothing that could be done about it now."

She sighed as she looked around them. "Why are you still here?"

"There is something I must do," Albus said gently. "I need to wait here for a… friend. Until I see them one more time, I cannot leave in good conscience."

She looked sadly at him as she hugged him one last time. "I'll meet up with you again," she whispered in his ear. "I do want to see my parents again."

Albus smiled as he pulled her back. "Then don't keep them waiting," he told her kindly. "And again, I'm truly sorry that you couldn't have had a long and full life like you deserve."

She smiled sadly back. "I'm sorry too… but… how much longer will this war go on?"

"I hope… that it will end with as few lives lost as possible," he confessed, "But I know that at least one more will be lost before it is over."

He kissed her forehead and smiled as she turned and began to walk off towards the mist and out of his sight.

Time went marching on again and Albus, who had been watching over Harry the whole time couldn't bear to look when he picked up the Prophet and began reading what Elphias, bless him, wrote about him. He knew some of the things in there that would come out… things that he didn't want revealed. Not that Elphias would've done it deliberately to hurt him… but… in a lot of ways this was worse. It was kinder than he deserved…

And Harry would surely be furious. Furious, thinking that he trusted him with everything and that he didn't trust him at all. Which wasn't true in the slightest… for he trusted Harry perhaps the most out of anyone…

The worst part was however the article about Rita's new book. He shook his head, unable to stand the thought of knowing what it said. Rita was writing a book about his life, and he knew that though it will contain many facts, they would surely be twisted around by Rita's viewpoint that they could become lies. What she did to poor Bathilda was just proof of that… giving her those truth-telling potions and her telling her everything she could think of.

But that wasn't important now… he had just opened his eyes as he watched them all move Harry from Privet Drive… he sat at his desk sadly, wondering if _she_ was going to come like he thought that she would. And in the distance he saw the form of a pair of wings…

"I had a feeling that you would come here," he called and a snowy white owl appeared through the mist and landed on his desk. She looked up at him through her great, golden eyes—blinking sadly a little. He smiled as he gently stroked her feathers. "You know, I never really thought about animals and where they go when they die," he told her, "But pets can become as dear to us as family. So I suppose that it only makes sense that they should join us in death. Isn't that right Hedwig?"

She hooted softly as she ruffled her feathers.

"I know that your death will be hard for Harry," he told her sadly, "But I saw what happened. You tried to protect him. I hope that you and your old master will be reunited again someday, but hopefully not for a long time."

She hooted again, and turned away, looking ready to fly off again. He chuckled and said, "You are now forever free of bars. There will no longer be any cage for you here. Fly as far as you like…"

She glanced at him one last time before she turned and fluttered off into the distance and he couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before he would be able to follow them all as well… he had all the time he could to simply wait and hope…

Not long after Hedwig dropped by, another arrived. He had half expected to hear the clunking of his foot, the glare of his magical eye, however instead he heard the sounds of a pair of normal footsteps. Rising up to greet him, he spotted him finishing pulling on his favorite travelling cloak before he called out, "Alastor!"

Alastor, Mad-Eye, Moody turned to him and rolled his eyes in annoyance when he did.

"You're here?" he asked him in his usual bark-like voice. "Great. Well, I always said that if we were to shake hands in hell, I wouldn't disappoint."

"Don't say such cruel things, Alastor," Albus chuckled as his old friend tried out his new leg. His face no longer held the battle scars it had once did… it was whole and markless… the parts of his missing nose, eye, and leg were all there as if nothing had ever happened. He shook his long grizzled hair out of his face as he glanced around.

"So this is the afterlife, eh?" he asked. "Damn… and here I was hoping to stay around, kicking until this blasted war was over. I had planned on living through it… and with that done, I would've been able to crawl into my warm grave without any stupid regrets. Well, I sure didn't expect to go anywhere near heaven… I'm almost glad. I was expecting a stinkin' garden."

"As cynical as always I see," Albus chuckled. "I hope that you don't have any other regrets Alastor. But you went out as you always said you would."

"Not taking any crap from anyone," he grunted as he walked tall and proud passed him. "What can you do though? After all, when you're dead, it's not like they can hear you complaining."

"You leaving?" Albus asked him in slight amusement.

"Nothing much going on around here," Alastor told him, "Might as well get going."

"Oh, I saw Remus and Nymphadora's wedding," he added with a bright smile and Alastor stopped at the mention of Dora's name. "I wish them nothing but happiness. I'm only sorry that I couldn't have been there in person. I thought it was beautiful… I don't think I've ever seen either Dora or Remus look as happy as they did then."

"It wasn't anything special," Alastor answered, "Though now that I'm gone, wolfboy better hold true to that promise."

"Yes," Albus laughed, "I saw that as well. Apparently you threatened Remus that if he didn't take care of Dora that you were going to snap his spine in half. That… how did you put it? You were going to peel him away layer by layer like an onion until there wasn't anything left but a bad smell?"

"And I meant it," he grunted as he walked forward. "And don't think that just because I'm dead doesn't mean that I won't hold him to it! He'll have to deal with me sooner or later!"

Albus smiled as he watched his retreating back before the old Auror added loudly, "And as for Dora… she had been a pain in my arse since the day I met her! For my sake, I hope that she stays alive as humanly possible so that I could have some peace and quiet for a while before I have to spend all eternity with her there."

Albus just chuckled at the threat as he went wandering off, possibly going on to find some peace. He was a man who had lived his life doing what he thought was right… he more than earned this.

**(How was it? I really did think this through and try to write about his point of view even though he was dead and gone, so I came up with the idea of him being able to dream and see all this. What do you all think? Please let me know, and I'm thinking maybe around five or six more chapters before this story is finally over. Hope you look forward to them all.)**


	62. Wedding Crashers

**Chapter 62: ****Wedding Crashers**

Albus continued to watch over everyone over the next few days as they were grieving over the loss of Alastor Moody. Albus knew what happened to his body… what the Ministry did when they tracked it down… he tried hard not to think about it as he watched them ready young William and Fleur's wedding—glad to celebrate something happy for a change—he personally thought that this was what everyone needed. It brought such joy to him to see, that even in a world that was in the mist of war, it helped to remind him that there were always those falling in love.

Naturally, he kept his watch over Harry more than anyone else. The other Order members were dying to know what it was they were planning on doing, and though most of them backed off when they heard that he had given them this task—Molly was a different story.

He could understand that she was worried, so of course she wanted to know what they were up to… knowing that she just wanted to keep them safe. She once tried to get Harry on his own so that she could try to convince him to go back to school or to at least find out what it was they were planning. It was painful… he knew that Molly loved Harry as much as if he was one of her own and he couldn't tell her anything.

"May I ask why you are abandoning your education?" he watched Molly ask Harry when she finally got him alone.

Harry was looking uncomfortable as he mumbled, "Well, Dumbledore left me… stuff to do. Ron and Hermione know about it, and they want to come too."

Albus shook his head, knowing that Molly wasn't going to like hearing that at all.

"What sort of 'stuff'?" she asked him, trying to sound calm, but he could clearly hear the anxiety underneath it all.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, and he sounded like he truly meant it, "I can't –"

"Well, frankly," Molly said firmly, "I think Arthur and I have a right to know, and I'm sure Mr. And Mrs. Granger would agree!"

Albus stood back but he wished that he could step in and do something to reassure her, but she needed to learn that they weren't children anymore. That she would have to let go sooner or later… they may still be young but they were of age and…

He stopped and shook his head at his feelings. _'I wish I thought to take my own advice when it counted,' _he thought.

"Dumbledore didn't want anyone else to know, Mrs. Weasley," Harry told her sadly, "I'm sorry. Ron and Hermione don't have to come, it's their choice –"

Albus smiled. Of course they don't have to go with him, but they were going because they wanted to. And that made all the difference. Molly looked angry and, for the first time, she snapped at him that it was nonsense—that if Dumbledore wanted something done, he'd had the whole Order to do so and that maybe Harry mistook it that he wanted _him_ to do so.

Albus sighed, how he wish that was the case.

"I didn't misunderstand," said Harry flatly. "It's got to be me."

He handed her back the single sock he was supposed to be identifying, which was patterned with golden bulrushes before he left and Albus opened his eyes.

With occasional checks on them all, he continued to greet more old friends and students as they came to this place—more losses from this war. Though he was glad to see them, each person he saw brought a sense of sadness with them. Each one of them was given the choice to stay and wander the mist until they were reunited or move on immediately. Most went on but he could eventually hear the sounds of someone wandering around in a contented way, happily waiting for their loved ones to join up with them so that they could go on together.

But he spent most of his free time with his eyes shut and dreaming of what was going on to the ones left behind. After that little encounter with Harry, Molly was now doing everything in her power to make sure that the three of them were away from each other—as if hoping that if they weren't together, she could prevent them from leaving. Though he understood it was just stopping their planning, not the time that they'll leave… and then they'll be less prepared.

But they caught a break once a few days later when they were able to meet up with each other in Ron's room. Hermione was going through all her books, just deciding to take _Spellman's Syllabary_ for ancient runes when he started to dream. He smiled, glad that she chose to keep it, knowing that would become useful in more ways than they know.

She was then picking up _Hogwarts, A History_ when Harry told them to listen to him, that even though he knew that they said after the funeral that they wanted to go with him but he…

Albus laughed. Who did he think he was kidding? Trying to stop his friends was the same as trying to stop the tides.

"Here he goes," Ron said with a roll of his eyes.

Hermione added sagely, "As we knew he would. You know, I think I will take _Hogwarts, A History_. Even if we're not going back there, I don't think I'd feel right if I didn't have it with –"

"Listen!" said Harry again more firmly.

"No, Harry, you listen," said Hermione. "We're coming with you. That was decided months ago – years, really."

'_It's always good to have friends,'_ Albus thought to himself, wishing that he had a bond as strong as the one these three shared. They argued for a few moments before they seemed to let the matter drop and Albus felt his heart hurt at Hermione's tearful explanation of what she did to make sure that her parents were safe… it was clever to have them move to Australia and no longer having memories of what was going on here.

Ron also took Harry up to the attic and told him about his plan with his family. The family ghoul would be playing the part as Ron with spattergroit. Which was really ingenious… after all, if Ron weren't to go back to school, it would most certainly be questioned. But if anyone came to check, all they had to do was show them the ghoul… no one would want to get too close to find out.

But it was Harry's expression said it all… the look of how touched and grateful he was to both of his friends… was more than anyone could say.

After a few more minutes of talking, Hermione finally said, "What we really need to decide, is where we're going after we leave here. I know you said you wanted to go to Godric's Hollow first, Harry, and I understand why, but… well… shouldn't we make the Horcruxes our priority?"

No… that wouldn't be wise. Tom would surely be expecting that and be keeping an eye on Godric's Hollow. Regardless of how much Harry wanted to visit, it was probably the last place that they should head to. He was glad when Hermione pointed this out to Harry and he stopped, obviously just realizing this fact as well.

Ron however suddenly asked, "This R.A.B. person," he said. "You know, the one who stole the real locket?"

Ah yes… he wondered about that greatly himself as Harry pulled the fake Horcrux out and read out the message inside, "'I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.'"

But who? Albus couldn't think of who it could be… after all, it had taken him years to learn about Voldemort's past and discover the Horcruxes, who could have possibly figure it out? It had to be someone who once knew Tom… had to know something of his past…?

"Well, what if he did finish it off?" Ron asked hopefully.

'_That would be nice,'_ Albus thought grimly. However, until they find out the truth, they'd never know for sure. They should make sure it's destroyed completely before they forget all about it. But then when Ron asked the next sudden question, Albus realized for the first time that he never fully explained about how he got rid of the ring.

"And once we get hold of it, how do you destroy a Horcrux?" he asked and Albus grimaced. This was something that they needed to know, he must not have realized it at the time.

"Well," said Hermione, "I've been researching that."

'_Really?'_ Albus thought, before he smiled to himself, glad that he thought ahead.

"How?" asked Harry in great surprise. "I didn't think there were any books on Horcruxes in the library?"

"There weren't," Hermione whispered quietly, "Dumbledore removed them all, but he – he didn't destroy them."

Ron suddenly realized what she was saying and was demanding to know how she got her hands on those books and she quickly explained that she didn't steal them… all she did was use a Summoning Charm and the books zoomed right out of his old study and she took them with her.

He laughed. Now he had planned it like that from the very beginning. He made sure to leave the books out near a window just… just in case.

She swallowed and then said imploringly, as if they could reassure her that she did the right thing. "I can't believe Dumbledore would have been angry, it's not as though we're going to use the information to make a Horcrux, is it?"

"No," Albus whispered. He knew that they were doing this for the good of all and to stop this war. He trusted them enough not to do someone as terrible as to create a Horcrux of their own. Hermione then brought out _Secrets of the Darkest Art_ and told them all about what she read.

"And the more I've read about them," said Hermione, "the more horrible they seem, and the less I can believe that he actually made six. It warns in this book how unstable you make the rest of your soul by ripping it, and that's just by making one Horcrux!"

"I'm afraid so," Albus said. "Tom is more powerful than he has ever been… but it came with a heavy price. I don't think there is any humanity in him any longer. What is he, I don't know… but he must be stopped."

"Isn't there any way of putting yourself back together?" Ron asked curiously.

"Yes," said Hermione with a hollow smile, "but it would be excruciatingly painful."

"Why? How do you do it?" asked Harry at once.

"Remorse," said Hermione and Albus felt a surge of regret inside him as well. He knew all about remorse… he had felt it every single day after Ariana died, and being trapped here in-between, he still felt it. He knew that he'd never fully be at peace until he saw this through until the end. However… Tom would never feel remorse for anything that had done.

"You've got to really feel what you've done," Hermione went on, pointing to the page, "There's a footnote. Apparently the pain of it can destroy you. I can't see Voldemort attempting it somehow, can you?"

Albus shook his head. But there was always a chance for hope wasn't there? He listened as she told them both about how they were gonna destroy them. And Hermione was right, Tom would've made sure that they would be almost impossible to destroy.

"I wonder how Dumbledore destroyed the ring?" said Harry regretfully and Albus felt the usual pang of guilt. "Why didn't I ask him? I never really…"

Albus felt his heart being torn in two once more. Though now that he thought of it, even if he did ask, there was no guarantee that he could answer truthfully. He remembered when the boy was still just a boy and they had that long talk in front of the Mirror of Erised…

Just then, the door banged open and all of them jumped up, knocking things over and falling over as Molly glared at them all, and told them that they still had work to do. Albus opened his eyes and stared sadly off into the distance at the comforting mist.

There wasn't much he could do but kept an eye on the three at the Burrow, as well as the other Order members, his Hogwarts staff, the Ministry, and even old students and their families. Things were getting worse by the day and no one knew what to do—but the thought of a wedding helped to raise everyone's spirits. But what really filled him with joy was when he heard the wonderful news… just before Remus and Dora went to the Burrow to celebrate Harry's seventeenth birthday… they had found out that Dora was going to have a baby.

He burst out laughing happily when he visited their house, filled with joy at the thought of new life in this war. However, he couldn't help but see that there was one person who didn't seem happy about this… Remus. He sighed, knowing how troubled Remus had always been—how afraid how his 'condition' would affect everyone around him. But he had a bad feeling that this was a different kind of fear. Sirius once scold Remus, saying that he was using his 'problem' as an excuse to run away from everything that he really wanted.

How Albus hope that this wasn't really the case.

Hopefully, once it had all sunk it, and he would come to see the joy in it soon. However, there were other things to worry about as well… for Rufus was making a surprise visit and Albus sighed, highly doubting that Rufus was showing up to wish Harry a 'happy birthday' now. He also had a feeling that Rufus might still be a little sore from the two times that he met Harry before… this can't be good.

Once they got the warning, Remus took Dora and quickly left, the Ministry had been very Anti-Werewolf and it wouldn't do any good for them if they saw him there. Not that it makes any difference at this point in time. Rufus came in and rather stiffly asked to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He took them inside and naturally tried to separate them, which they refused firmly before they all sat side by side on the couch to see what it was he had to say to them all. And he surprised them all at the fact that he was here because of the will.

Of course… Albus had a sneaking suspicion that the Ministry would to confiscate his will in the hope that they could find something they could use to their advantage. He made sure to set things up so that he was ready should this happen. Hermione, however, was outraged and began to say with a tremble in her voice that they had no right to do so.

It didn't matter, Hermione. Nothing they could've found would've been able to help them.

"I had every right," Rufus answered coldly. "The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power the confiscate the contents of a will-"

"That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artifacts," she interrupted, unable to stop herself, "and the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased's possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?"

"Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?" Rufus asked interestedly.

Not that Albus was aware of. But she should, they needed someone like her to keep them in line.

"No, I'm not," retorted Hermione. "I'm hoping to do some good in the world!"

Albus laughed along with Ron as Rufus's eyes narrowed and Harry asked him, "So why have you decided to let us have our things now? Can't think of a pretext to keep them?"

"No, it'll be because thirty-one days are up," Hermione answered him darkly. "They can't keep the objects longer than that unless they can prove they're dangerous. Right?"

And of course Rufus began to ask them questions, trying to get some kind of information that they might be able to use. Ron slipped up a few times, but he felt a surge of pride go through him at how well they dealt with Rufus. In the end, Rufus was forced to hand over his old Deluminator to Ron—Albus gave it to him because he had an idea to what might happen… though he silently hoped that he'd never have to use it. He then gave Hermione his old copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ and she was looked dumbstruck as she stared at the faded cover.

Yes, that was something that he left to her so that she could learn about the tale of the Deathly Hallows.

And finally, he had given Harry the Snitch… the same Snitch that he had hidden the Resurrection Stone.

"I notice that your birthday cake is in the shape of a Snitch," Rufus suddenly asked as he handled the worn-out looking ball, "Why is that?"

Hermione laughed, a little hysterically, as she said in a loud voice, "Oh, it can't be a reference to the fact Harry's a great Seeker, that's way too obvious. There must be a secret message from Dumbledore hidden in the icing!"

Again, they needed more people like her in the world.

"I don't think there's anything hidden in the icing," Rufus said a little jerkily, and Albus knew him long enough to know that his temper was quickly rising, "but a Snitch would be a very good hiding place for a small object. You know why, I'm sure?"

And unsurprisingly, Hermione seemed to just blurt it out. "Because Snitches have flesh memories!"

The boys looked confused until Rufus elaborated—telling them that the Snitch remembers the first person to ever touch it in case of a disputed capture. And he was sure that this Snitch would remember his touch and that Dumbledore must've hide something precious inside it, but also to make sure that only Harry could open it.

Albus was impressed that they were able to come up with all that. It was all true of course, but they were missing a few key pieces to this puzzle of theirs.

Harry was looking nervous, and Albus knew him well enough that he was worried about Rufus being right and taking the Snitch from him. But he needn't worry… there was only one way to open it. He lowered his head… all he needed was to say the magic words… and he still felt disgusted with himself for that.

"You don't say anything," Rufus commented, now looking interested. "Perhaps you already know what the Snitch contains?"

"No," said Harry, before he was left with no choice but to hold out his hand and they watched Rufus slowly put it into Harry's palm. And of course, nothing happened.

"That was dramatic," said Harry coolly and Albus chuckled as Ron and Hermione laughed along with him. Rufus was looking angrier than ever before he informed them that Harry had a second bequest… the sword of Godric Gryffindor.

Now Albus _knew_ that they were never going to pass the sword on… in fact he had counted on it. Which was why he made sure to have a second copy made and switched the real one with the fake a few days before he died and gave instructions to Severus to hide it.

And of course, Rufus had refused to hand the sword over—though he wasn't completely wrong either. The sword itself belongs to Hogwarts and it could only work properly when you prove yourself to be a true Gryffindor, which meant that it wasn't truly Harry's.

Rufus scratched his cheek before he asked, "That does not make it the exclusive property of Mr. Potter, whatever Dumbledore may have decided. Why do you think-?"

"-Dumbledore wanted to give me the sword?" said Harry, and his infamous temper was quickly rising, "Maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall."

"This is not a joke, Potter!" Rufus growled at him. "Was it because Dumbledore believed that only the sword of Godric Gryffindor could defeat the Heir of Slytherin? Did he wish to give you that sword, Potter, because he believed, as do many, that you are the one destined to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Albus could understand Rufus's desperation to end this war. It couldn't have been easy for him all this time, but this wasn't the way to do it—he should be trying to work with them instead of trying to trick or force them. Not only that, the sword is powerful and it is needed to destroy the Horcruxes… but it wasn't necessarily the only key they had.

"Interesting theory," said Harry scornfully, pretending to think that over. "Has anyone ever tried sticking a sword in Voldemort? Maybe the Ministry should put some people onto that, instead of wasting their time stripping down Deluminators or covering up breakouts from Azkaban.

"I feel sorry for you, Rufus," Albus sighed, knowing that Harry's scorn was something to be feared. The Minister was about to get told off alright. And sure enough…

"So this is what you've been doing, Minister, shut up in your office, trying to break open a Snitch?" he demanded harshly. "People are dying – I was nearly one of them – Voldemort chased me across three countries, he killed Mad-Eye Moody, but there's no word about any of that from the Ministry, has there? And you still expect us to cooperate with you!"

Albus was glad that someone was finally telling Rufus off like this. However, Rufus lost it completely, shouting at him as he jumped up and jabbed him hard with his wand and singed a hole in Harry's shirt.

Albus shook his head at how Rufus lost his temper like a child. Immediately, Ron jumped up and looked ready to fight until Harry held him back, reminding them that they could get arrested if they did try to attack him.

"Remembered you're not at school, have you?" Rufus demanded furiously. "Remembered that I am not Dumbledore, who forgave your insolence and insubordination? You may wear that scar like a crown, Potter, but it is not up to a seventeen-year-old boy to tell me how to do my job! It's time you learned some respect!"

But respect isn't something you demand… you have to…

"It's time you earned it," Harry said, interrupting him and voicing what he was thinking. Albus couldn't have felt any prouder at seeing how well he was dealing with this. Thankfully, before anything else happened, Arthur and Molly both came in quickly, asking what was going on. At the sight of them, Rufus remembered where he was and what was happening.

He looked at the hole he made in Harry's shirt before he moved back. "It – it was nothing," he growled. "I … regret your attitude."

Albus sight at that. The way that he saw it, it was Rufus's attitude that was the problem.

They shared only a few more words, with Harry holding up his fist so that they couldn't hope to miss the scars that the Ministry had forced him to carve there himself, and Albus opened his eyes, unable to watch anymore.

He knew that this was going to be it. This moment would help to decide the war… one way or another, it would end…

The next day he dreamt of visiting the wedding, lamenting the fact that he couldn't be there in person. It was truly a beautiful thing to see… dozens of people were there, laughing and enjoying themselves as they set the ceremony. Fleur's father walked her proudly down the aisle as she looked ready to start sprinting up to Bill, and Albus was sure that no one even noticed the scars on his face as they joined hands at the altar.

He even applauded along with everyone else when the two sealed their vows with a kiss, and the golden balloons over their heads burst so that birds of paradise and golden bells chimed. Soon, the chairs were gone and they were underneath a large canopy supported by golden poles, with a glorious view of the sunlit orchard and surrounding countryside. Next, a pool of molten gold spread from the center of the tent to form a gleaming dance floor; the hovering chairs grouped themselves around small, white-clothed tables, which all floated gracefully back to earth round it, and the golden-jacketed hand trooped toward a podium.

"Beautiful," he sighed as he watched. His eyes soon caught hold of Ron leading Hermione, and a boy with red, curly hair…

He chuckled, knowing that it must've been Harry in disguise. That was probably for the best that the guests don't know that he's not here—and he watched them for a moment as they went to where Luna Lovegood was sitting all alone. He chuckled as she greeted them and he watched the happy newlyweds begin their first dance as husband and wife. He enjoyed moving around and watching everything that was happening, feeling happier than he had in a long time, but that was short lived…

After some time of watching everyone enjoy themselves and looking happier than they had been for the longest time, he eventually spotted his dear old friend Elphias sitting at one of the tables with Harry, still in his disguised form. Suddenly remembering that it was Elphias who wrote his obituary, he went over to them to see what it was they were sure to be talking about.

When he got closer, he could hear Elphias speaking as he filled up a glass with some champagne. "I thought of writing to you," he whispered to Harry, "after Dumbledore… the shock… and for you, I am sure…"

So he knew it was Harry? He supposed that he shouldn't be surprised since he is an Order member.

"I saw the obituary you wrote for the Daily Prophet," Harry answered, and though it wasn't his voice, he could hear traces of Harry speaking through it. "I didn't realize you knew Professor Dumbledore so well."

"As well as anyone," Elphias answered, and Albus was truly touched to see the sad tears in his friend's eye. "Certainly I knew him longest, if you don't count Aberforth – and somehow, people never do seem to count Aberforth."

That was because Aberforth preferred it that way—that no one knew that they were related. One of his many regrets was that he couldn't make things right between them before he died.

"Speaking of the Daily Prophet… I don't know whether you saw, Mr. Doge -?" Harry went on curiously before Elphias insisted that he call him by his first name. "Elphias, I don't know whether you saw the interview Rita Skeeter gave about Dumbledore?"

He had a feeling that was what this was about. That this wasn't going to be a pretty thing to see.

"Oh yes, Harry, I saw it," Elphias answered, "That woman, or vulture might be a more accurate term…" and Albus smiled at that as he went on, "positively pestered me to talk to her, I am ashamed to say that I became rather rude, called her an interfering trout, which resulted, as you may have seen, in aspersions cast upon my sanity."

Turning words around was always something that Rita was always best at.

"Well, in that interview," Harry went on, "Rita Skeeter hinted that Professor Dumbledore was involved in the Dark Arts when he was young."

No… not technically, though what he was planning was far from innocent at the same time.

"Don't believe a word of it!" said Elphias at once. "Not a word, Harry! Let nothing tarnish your memories of Albus Dumbledore!"

Albus smiled a bit sadly at that. He really should've told Harry the truth himself while he had the chance. Harry looked on, and though he couldn't read this face as well as his usual one, Albus could see that he was upset… not that he blamed him. He knew that he must've been hurt and angry with him as well… as well as the tremendous pressure that he was under.

"Harry, Rita Skeeter is a dreadful –" Elphias began but then an elderly woman—Muriel, one of the Weasley's many realities overheard them speaking, and interrupted them with a cackle. "Rita Skeeter? Oh, I love her, always read her!"

She came over to them, a goblet of champagne in her hands, "She's written a book about Dumbledore, you know!"

"With most of it made up and speculation I suppose?" Albus sighed as Elphias welcomed her politely before she barked at someone to give him her chair and she just sat down.

"Hello again, Barry or whatever your name is," she said to Harry, "Now what were you saying about Rita Skeeter, Elphias? You know, she's written a biography of Dumbledore? I can't wait to read it. I must remember to place an order at Flourish and Blotts!"

'_Not that it will do much good these days,'_ Albus thought, upset that his private history was going to be revealed to the world. Especially if most of it was bound to be likes and rumors—but his feelings about the whole thing didn't matter. As she got more champagne, she gave a belch before she went on, "There's no need to look like a pair of stuffed frogs! Before he became so respected and respectable and all that tosh, there were some mighty funny rumors about Albus!"

"Ill-informed sniping," Elphias hissed under his breath, but Muriel heard him clearly.

"You would say that, Elphias," she cackled. "I noticed how you skated over the sticky patches in that obituary of yours!"

"I'm sorry you think so," Elphias said coldly, "I assure you I was writing from the heart."

"Yes, it was far kinder than I deserve, Elphias," Albus answered.

"Oh, we all know you worshipped Dumbledore," she retorted, "I daresay you'll still think he was a saint even if it does turn out that he did away with his Squib sister!"

Albus shivered at that; it was callous and incorrect but there was just enough truth in it that made him feel like he was stabbed in the chest. He _was_ the reason his sister was gone after all, no matter if he cast the spell that actually ended her life or not.

"Muriel!" exclaimed Elphias in shock as Harry's hand tightened on his goblet.

"What do you mean?" he asked Muriel. "Who said his sister was a Squib? I thought she was ill?"

"She was Harry," Albus whispered, "But Muriel isn't completely wrong either."

"Thought wrong, then, didn't you, Barry!" said Muriel, looking delighted at the effect she had produced. "Anyway, how could you expect to know anything about it?! It all happened years and years before you were even thought of, my dear, and the truth is that those of us who were alive then never knew what really happened. That's why I can't wait to find out what Skeeter's unearthed! Dumbledore kept that sister of his quiet for a long time!"

He looked away as Elphias wheezed out that it wasn't true. But then Harry spoke softly to himself, "He never told me his sister was a Squib."

"Because she wasn't, Harry," Albus said softly, his guilt once again feeling like it was crushing him.

"And why on earth would he tell you?" screeched Muriel, swaying a little in her seat as she attempted to focus.

Elphias was far from through though. "The reason Albus never spoke about Ariana is, I should have thought, quite clear. He was so devastated by her death –"

"Why did nobody ever see her, Elphias?" Muriel demanded harshly, "Why did half of us never even know she existed, until they carried the coffin out of the house and held a funeral for her? Where was saintly Albus while Ariana was locked in the cellar? Off being brilliant at Hogwarts, and never mind what was going on in his own house!"

Albus wanted nothing more than to open his eyes and stop dreaming. But he couldn't bring himself to look away, flinching at those words. But she was truly unable to leave the house in her condition… that was what he tried to remind himself.

"What d'you mean, locked in the cellar?" asked Harry. "What is this?"

"Dumbledore's mother was a terrifying woman, simply terrifying," Muriel said and Albus felt anger burning inside him at that. "Muggle-born, though I heard she pretended otherwise-"

His mother may have been a Muggle-born, she was never ashamed of it. And he was glad when Elphias spoke up, "She never pretended anything of the sort! Kendra was a fine woman."

"- proud and very domineering, the sort of witch who would have been mortified to produce a Squib-" Muriel went on and Albus felt the need to put a Silence Charm on her to shut her up. What sense would that make? If she was a Muggle-born, why would she be mortified?!

"Ariana was not a Squib!" wheezed Elphias.

"So you say, Elphias, but explain, then, why she never attended Hogwarts!" Muriel asked him.

Naturally, if she was too fragile to set foot outside, why would she leave and go to school? A lot of student are home-schooled… that doesn't mean that she had to have been a Squib. But Muriel turned back to Harry and said, "In our day, Squibs were often hushed up, though to take it to the extreme of actually imprisoning a little girl in the house and pretending she didn't exist –"

"I tell you, that's not what happened!" Elphias stammered, but she just ignored him, telling Harry that Squibs were usually shipped off to Muggle schools and encouraged to integrate into the Muggle world. And Albus had to agree that was best for them to try to find a place where they would always be looked down on. They argued for some time, and Muriel demanded to know why Ariana was never taken to St. Mungo's or why a Healer had never come to the house.

Of course, that had been because if she _was_ taken to a Healer she would have been taken away from them for good. It was all his mother could do to keep her with them, and she couldn't bear the idea of her daughter being taken away from them.

"Really, Muriel, how can you possibly know whether –?" Elphias asked as she snapped that her cousin worked as a Healer at St. Mungo's at the time and he never seen or even heard that there was a daughter in that household.

Albus was looking at Harry's shocked expression and knew at once what he was thinking off. He was probably sympathizing with his sister—fully realizing just how much the two had in common. After all… he knew better than anyone what it was like to be locked away… kept out of sight…

He looked away from this. Hadn't he always sworn how much the two were alike? Was Harry fully realizing this as well? He supposed that Harry would understand Ariana better than almost anyone what it was like to be kept locked up. But what Muriel was saying wasn't the whole truth either. As distance as he had been from his family in those days, he never would've allowed something like that to happen to his own little sister… she had to be kept inside, but not like a prisoner.

"Now, if Kendra hadn't died first," Muriel resumed, "I'd have said that it was she who finished off Ariana –"

Albus's eyes showed a hint of fury at that before the sadness consumed them again as he thought of what had really happened there. His mother and father gave up everything to care for Ariana… how dare they try to judge them for that?!

"How can you, Muriel!" Elphias said horrified. "A mother kill her own daughter? Think what you're saying!"

Albus wished that he could do something here, but he was forced to do nothing but watch as Muriel said, "If the mother in question was capable of imprisoning her daughter for years on end, why not? But as I say, it doesn't fit, because Kendra died _before_ Ariana – of what, nobody ever seemed sure-"

Albus knew what happened on that awful day. It was just after he left school wand was going on that world tour with Elphias when he got the news. Ariana had always been like a bomb that could go off at any moment—all it took was a few wrong sparks and there was an explosion… to Ariana, she tried desperately to hold her magic inside. But it was like she was trying to hold back a dam with a rushing torrent of water behind it. The harder she tried to hold it back, the more the force behind the wall built up until it just burst…

But what happened that day was just an accident… Ariana didn't mean to do something like that, she didn't even realize what had happened until it was too late. Elphias tried to say scornfully how Ariana might've killed her in a tone that clearly said that he didn't believe a word of it, but Muriel was nodding thoughtfully to that.

"Yes, Ariana might have made a desperate bid for freedom and killed Kendra in the struggle," she said thoughtfully as Elphias shook his head stubbornly. "Shake your head all you like, Elphias. You were at Ariana's funeral, were you not?"

Albus was finding it harder and harder to watch—once more fighting the desperate urge to move on. "Yes I was," Elphias said, "and a more desperately sad occasion I cannot remember. Albus was heartbroken-"

Heartbroken? That was putting his grief mildly.

"His heart wasn't the only thing," Muriel said, "Didn't Aberforth break Albus' nose halfway through the service?"

Albus felt as if his insides were being torn and ripped apart as Elphias seemed too stunned to speak with Harry looking horrified as he watched them both. Elphias croaked out, asking how she could possibly have known about this and she told them happily that she overheard her mother talking about it with Bathilda Bagshot how Aberforth attacked him and broke his nose.

He felt his hands go up and touch the same one. He knew that he could've fixed it long ago, however, he chose to keep it as a permanent reminder.

"And I'll tell you something else," Muriel said, hiccupping slightly as she lowered her goblet. "I think Bathilda has spilled the beans to Rita Skeeter. All those hints in Skeeter's interview about an important source close to the Dumbledore's – goodness knows she was there all through the Ariana business, and it would fit!"

Oh, he knew that she was the 'source'… he saw the whole thing with Rita interviewing her, but it was in an underhanded way.

"Bathilda, would never talk to Rita Skeeter!" Elphias said firmly.

"No, not willingly anyway," Albus sighed.

"Bathilda Bagshot?" Harry suddenly asked in surprise. "The author of A History of Magic?"

"Yes!" Elphias wheezed at once, "A most gifted magical historian and an old friend of Albus's."

"Quite gaga these days, I've heard," Muriel said in a good mood.

Then what good was Rita doing interviewing her? If everyone knew she was gaga, then they shouldn't be taking her seriously.

"If that is so, it is even more dishonorable for Skeeter to have taken advantage of her," Elphias stated at once, voicing his thoughts, "and no reliance can be placed on anything Bathilda may have said!"

"Not that that's ever stopped her before," Albus whispered grimly.

"Oh, there are ways of bringing back memories, and I'm sure Rita Skeeter knows them all," Muriel informed him.

"And most of which are illegal," Albus stated as she went on, "But even if Bathilda's completely cuckoo, I'm sure she'd still have old photographs, maybe even letters. She knew the Dumbledore's for years…. Well worth a trip to Godric's Hollow, I'd have thought…"

Oh no…

He looked quickly to Harry, who was coughing on his drink and Elphias banged him hard on the back as he quickly asked, "Bathilda Bagshot lives in Godric's Hollow?"

"Oh yes, she's been there forever! The Dumbledores moved there after Percival was imprisoned, and she was their neighbor."

"The Dumbledores lived in Godric's Hollows?" he repeated and Albus moved back, as if afraid. The look of shock on his face was worse than a punch in the gut and Albus couldn't bear himself to look at him for the longest time. By the time he was able to, Hermione had come over to sit next to him to rest her feet.

Harry was looking deeply upset at this point, he looked like he was going to say something to her, but at that moment, a silver lynx Patronus appeared out of nowhere and landed in the middle of the dancers. And Albus knew what it meant…

"The Ministry has fallen," Kingsley's voice said with the lynx opened its mouth. "Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

"No," Albus whispered, not here… not at a wedding…

The warning couldn't have come any sooner. Everyone began to panic and they were sprinting away, trying to leave as soon as possible. They were all leaving in panicking groups, most of them were Disapparating away as soon as they could—the protective charms that protected the Burrow were gone. Harry and Hermione were looking around desperately for Ron as Order members were creating shields around the guests as Hermione was almost crying for their friend.

It was a good thing so many of the Order members were there… they were giving everyone a chance to leave before the Death Eaters came… and just as he could see the forms of black hoods appear, through the crowd, Ron came bursting through and took hold of Hermione's arms before they disappeared together.

Albus's eyes opened up and he left his chair as he paced the room, feeling anxious. He knew that Tom wouldn't come in person unless he was sure that Harry had been captured. He kept a watch over them and was relieved to see that the trio were able to escape to the Muggle World, where they would be safest for the moment. The Order had a slight problem with a couple Death Eaters, but thankfully everyone at the wedding, he was glad to see that the guests had almost all escaped by the time the Death Eaters had come.

Albus sighed as he heard the footsteps coming towards him.

"You caused some trouble haven't you?" Albus asked him.

"I just wanted to do something right," Rufus said to Albus grimly and he slowly turned around so that he could see the former Minister standing there.

"By trying to cover everything up?" Albus asked softly. "I would've thought that you'd know better than that to try and get Harry to join you."

"I meant no harm," Rufus sighed. "I wasn't ready for such a job as Minister…"

"I know that it couldn't have been easy for you," Albus told him sympathetically. "I know that. I blame Cornelius for turning a blind eye more than you. If he had done what needed to be done from the start, then the government wouldn't have been left in such a mess for you. I'm sure that under different circumstances, you would've been a marvelous leader."

"I wish that it was that simple," Rufus sighed. "We'll never know…"

"But you died honorably," Albus answered.

_*Flashback.*_

_The Death Eaters entered the Ministry… Rufus was laying on the floor with his mane-like hair matted and covered with blood. He had been brought to his knees and Voldemort was standing over him, holding his wand high before he kicked Rufus over onto his back._

"_I know that it must be painful to talk with a broken jaw," he growled angrily, "But I can make your death painless if you tell me. Tell me where I can find Harry Potter and your death will be quick."_

"_No…" he croaked out, blood bubbling up between his cracked lips._

_In his anger, Voldemort raised his wand and used the torture curse to cause him to scream in agony. It was quick though and Voldemort drew his wand back. "I will not let you leave this place alive, and you are dying right now. But there is still time to make you suffer! Now I will only say this one last time! Tell me where Harry Potter is right now and I will make your death swift! If not, then I will make every second you lay here feel as if eternity has passed!"_

"_You'll… have to… kill me," he breathed out, not the slightest bit of fear in his face. "Harry… Potter may be… a naïve brat… but even I know… that you're afraid of him."_

_Voldemort's eyes widen in rage as he raised his wand. Rufus let out a scream of agony, he thrashed on the ground and his shrill, ear-splitting shriek of pain echoed across the room._

"_YOU'RE SAYING I'M AFRIAD OF HIM?! A SNIFFLING BOY WHO HIDES BEHIND OTHERS AS THEY PROTECT HIM?!" Voldemort screamed, looking truly mad in those red eyes._

_Rufus just smirked. He knew that he was gonna die, but this was a small victory nonetheless. "My duty… is to the people. I'm only… sorry I didn't realize… it till now."_

_And then his mouth curled slightly as he closed his eyes… and faded away right then and there._

_*End of Flashback*_

"That was truly a brave thing you did," Albus said as he shut his eyes and spotted them…

"Draco," Tom shrieked at him, "Give Rowle another taste of our displeasure…! Do it, or feel my wrath yourself!"

He opened his eyes at once, unable to watch Draco's terrified face as he was forced to torture Rowle.

'_What a terrible thing forcing someone who's barely of age to do, Tom,' _Albus thought grimly. He looked to Rufus, and told him gratefully, "And… thank you for protecting Harry."

"Even though I knew that he's probably the only person who has any hope of taking that madman down…" Rufus said as he paced around him, "More than anything, I think I never would've been able to face you again if I sold him out like that."

"Is that so?" Albus asked.

"Come, come now Dumbledore," he smirked. "You'd have to be blind not to see it. You know… it's funny… how much he sounds like you. I swear… when I talked to him it's like I'm looking at you all over again."

"You honor me," Albus sighed, gazing up above him grimly. "But I said this before… he's nothing like me."

"Really?" Rufus chuckled. "He matches you perfectly if you ask me. The way he talks is like you're still there, you know? You may be dead, but it seems as though he inherited your spirit."

Albus closed his eyes. _'I just hope that he doesn't inherit my mistakes with them,'_ he thought as he bade Rufus farewell.

**(How was it? We're getting along and almost to the end at long last. I'm looking forward to finally ending this story. I think the next chapter might be a lot longer, and I hope that you're interested in seeing what I have planned.)**


	63. Vinegar and Honey

**Chapter 63: Vinegar and Honey**

So… it had been Regulus all this time.

Though a part of him wasn't the least bit surprised, he still didn't know how he should approach this news. He had kept watch over the three of them in Grimmauld Place and Harry had been the first one up and to explore the house—or what was left of it anyway. It warmed his heart when Harry had found the letter that Lily had sent to Sirius some years ago and spent a lot of time searching over every square inch of the room for the rest of the letter.

Little did he know that Severus had been here days before and had done the same thing. But after a time, he came to accept that it was lost and joined Hermione when she came running up searching for him in panic. Convinced that they were safe, Albus was about to open his eyes and check on the others before Harry pointed out a sign on one of the old bedrooms…

A room that had once belonged to Sirius's own younger brother… Regulus Arcturus Black…

Albus didn't pay much attention to it at first… but he just stared at the name and suddenly it all came together and made perfect sense. On one hand, he was floored that Harry had so quickly managed to rectify the identity of the one who had to have taken the real Horcrux; yet at the same time he had no idea that Voldemort could have allowed _anyone _to find out about his Horcruxs and not know about it long enough that they could steal one. It seems, that he had overestimated Tom just in the slightest of ways.

He watched as they searched through Regulus's room, looking for anything that could help them. However, like the rest of the house, it looked like it had been searched and stripped clean of anything valuable. He shook his head, wanting nothing more than to have a discussing with Mundungus Fletcher about this.

After over an hour, they searched every square inch of the room several times before they were forced to admit that the locket wasn't there. Their spirits low, they all trooped down the stairs. But Hermione seemed to become more and more determined to do something about this mess no matter what it took.

"Whether he'd manage to destroy it or not, he'd want to keep it hidden from Voldemort, wouldn't he?" she asked firmly, and he could almost see the gears going in her mind, "Remember all those awful things we had to get rid of when we were here last time? That clock that shot bolts at everyone and those old robes that tried to strangle Ron; Regulus might have put them there to protect the locket's hiding place, even though we didn't realize it at… at… "

Albus stopped to look at her, seeing the look of shocked disbelief on her face as she stare ahead of her in a kind of suppressed horror. He grew concerned for her as she whispered, "… at the time…"

He was confused as Ron asked her what the matter was and that was when he learned the truth. Apparently while they were cleaning out Grimmauld Place the summer before last, they ended up throwing out a large locket that none of them could open.

Albus groaned out in horror at that. There was a piece of Voldemort's soul in their possession all this time and they never knew? Not that he could be angry with them… how could they have possibly known. But if they threw it out, finding it could be almost impossible.

"Kreacher nicked loads of things back from us," Harry said suddenly, "He had a whole stash of stuff in his cupboard in the kitchen. C'mon!" and they all turned and raced down the stairs to the kitchen at those words—making so much noise that Sirius's mother woke up and started shrieking at them. But they all ignored her as they skidded into the kitchen and flung themselves at one of the cupboards and threw the door open.

There was hardly anything left in there… just a nest of dirty old blankets and a book of _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy_. Even as Harry shook the blankets out, they all knew that there wasn't anything here.

"It's not over yet," said Harry, and he raised his voice and called for the elf to appear, and appear he did.

"Master," croaked Kreacher in his bullfrog's voice, and he bowed low; muttering to his knees, "back in my Mistress's old house with the blood-traitor Weasley and the Mudblood –"

"I forbid you to call anyone 'blood traitor' or 'Mudblood,'" growled Harry. "I've got a question for you, and I order you to answer it truthfully. Understand?"

Albus moved closer, knowing that this would be the only chance to ever find out what happened to the locket. If there was anyone who could tell them it would be Kreacher.

"Yes, Master," said Kreacher, bowing low again as he continued to mouth out insults.

"Two years ago," Harry said quickly, "there was a big gold locket in the drawing room upstairs. We threw it out. Did you steal it back?"

At his words, Kreacher suddenly stopped muttering, his frame suddenly very tense. After a brief moment of silence, Kreacher slowly looked up to Harry's face and said, "Yes."

He must have rescued it when they weren't looking and hidden it from them. A slight sense of hope was back in his stomach as Harry quickly asked where it was—but it died just as quickly when Kreacher informed them that it was gone.

"Gone?" echoed Harry, looking horrified, "What do you mean, it's gone? Kreacher, I order you –"

"Mundungus Fletcher," croaked the elf, his eyes still tight shut.

Albus groaned out. Of course… if Mundungus Fletcher thought that he could make some money from anything in this place then he would've stolen it.

Kreacher told them all that Mundungus stole many things. Such as pictures clothes, the silver goblets and then suddenly he started to scream out, "—and the locket, Master Regulus's locket. Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!"

Kreacher lunged for the nearest thing he could find—which in this case the fireplace poker—forcing Harry had to hold him down to keep himself from hurting himself and even ordered him to stay still.

Hermione begged him to let him up which Harry retorted that he would just start beating himself up again if he did. So instead, he knelt beside him and told him to tell the whole truth about the locket and how he knew that Mundungus stole it.

"Kreacher saw him!" gasped the elf as tears poured over his snout and into his mouth full of graying teeth. "Kreacher saw him coming out of Kreacher's cupboard with his hands full of Kreacher's treasures. Kreacher told the sneak thief to stop, but Mundungus Fletcher laughed and r-ran…"

"You called the locket 'Master Regulus's,'" said Harry quickly. "Why? Where did it come from? What did Regulus have to do with it? Kreacher, sit up and tell me everything you know about that locket, and everything Regulus had to do with it!"

After a few minutes, the little elf sat up in a ball and placed his wet face between his knees, and he told them the whole story as he rocked back and forth. Regulus's parents considered him to be much different from his older brother Sirius. Although Sirius was the older son and heir, he didn't in any way whatsoever follow the Black family traditions, unlike Regulus. Their parents disapproved of this, and by the time Sirius left home, he was disowned and burned from the family tapestry. Regulus, on the other hand, was admired by his parents for his loyalty towards his family and their traditions and they were so proud of him when he joined the Death Eaters. However, from what Albus could gather, Regulus had begun to have doubts about serving Voldemort. One day, Regulus volunteered the use for his house-elf Kreacher when Voldemort needed an elf for a particular job.

Albus could figure out what happened almost at once. Voldemort used Kreacher to test the defenses around his locket Horcrux, leaving him to die afterwards. Kreacher was able to escape using house-elf magic, and told Regulus of what had happened.

Kreacher went on to tell them that Voldemort took him to the Crystal Cave and forced him to drink the potion in the basin so that Voldemort could place the locket in the basin.

Albus remembered with painful clarity what happened and his heart went out to Kreacher as soon as he realized that he was forced to go through the same pain he had. The terrible burning pain that burned and charred his insides as he was forced to see a kind of living nightmare. Kreacher told them that Voldemort then left, leaving Kreacher to drink from the lake and die at the hands of the Inferi.

"How did you get away?" Harry asked, and he was whispering as he stared at him in shock. Kreacher raised his head and answered simply, "Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back."

"I know – but how did you escape the Inferi?" Harry asked as Kreacher insisted that Regulus told him to return.

"I know, but – " Harry began once more before Ron answered.

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it, Harry?" he said. "He Disapparated!"

"But … you couldn't Apparate in and out of that cave," said Harry, looking at him, "otherwise Dumbledore – "

"Elf magic isn't like wizard's magic, is it?" said Ron, "I mean, they can Apparate and Disapparate in and out of Hogwarts when we can't."

Yes… but Albus highly doubted that Voldemort would've thought about that. Tom Riddle always saw everyone else less than him. Just as he saw Muggles and Muggle-borns as below him.

Hermione voiced his opinions out loud. "Of course, Voldemort would have considered the ways of house-elves far beneath his notice… It would never have occurred to him that they might have magic that he didn't."

"The house-elf's highest law is his Master's bidding," intoned Kreacher. "Kreacher was toldto come home, so Kreacher came home…"

"Well, then, you did what you were told, didn't you?" said Hermione kindly. "You didn't disobey orders at all!"

Kreacher shook his head, rocking as fast as ever. And he explained that once he arrived home, he told Regulus what had happened. And apparently that was the deciding factor in Regulus's defection. Later that night, Regulus had Kreacher take him back to that cave and Regulus had been the one who drank the potion himself and ordered Kreacher to switch Slytherin's Locket with a fake locket and then go home and destroy the 'real' locket, leaving Regulus to die in the cave. Regulus also ordered Kreacher to never tell his family what had happened to him. Kreacher did what he was told, but was unable to destroy the locket, despite his many attempts. Albus shook his head, suddenly understanding everything. This inability to complete an order of his master may have driven him to insanity, explaining his muttering and devotion to his mistress' painting.

"Oh, Kreacher!" wailed Hermione, who was crying after hearing his story. She dropped to her knees beside the elf and tried to hug him. At once he was on his feet, cringing away from her, quite obviously repulsed.

"The Mudblood touched Kreacher, he will not allow it, what would his Mistress say?" he asked at once.

"I told you not to call her 'Mudblood'!" snarled Harry, but the elf was already punishing himself. He fell to the ground and banged his forehead on the floor.

Albus could only shake his head as he watched. What a poor, misguided, miserable little thing that elf was.

"Stop him – stop him!" Hermione cried. "Oh, don't you see now how sick it is, the way they've got to obey?"

Yes, Albus could see that right away as Harry yelled at Kreacher to stop beating himself up. The elf lay on the floor, panting and shivering, green mucus glistening around his snot, a bruise already blooming on his pallid forehead where he had struck himself, his eyes swollen and bloodshot and swimming in tears.

Albus's heart constricted painfully as he watched the elf continued to sob silently to himself.

"So you brought the locket home," Harry asked hurriedly, "And you tried to destroy it?"

"Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it," moaned the elf. "Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work…"

Naturally… Tom was sure to have made it almost impossible to destroy it. He doubted that anything that a person, even an elf, could do would be enough to destroy it.

"So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open…" Kreacher went on and Albus thought that over. Though it would be almost impossible to know for sure unless he saw the locket for himself, he had a feeling that Kreacher was right.

"Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again," moaned the elf. "Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had f-f-forbidden him to tell any of the f-f-family what happened in the c-cave…"

Kreacher began to sob so hard that there were no more coherent words. Tears flowed down Hermione's cheeks as she watched Kreacher, but she did not dare touch him again. Harry sat back on his heels and shook his head, as if he was trying hard to understand a difficult problem.

"I don't understand you, Kreacher," he said finally. "Voldemort tried to kill you, Regulus died to bring Voldemort down, but you were still happy to betray Sirius to Voldemort? You were happy to go to Narcissa and Bellatrix, and pass information to Voldemort through them…?"

Albus looked at him sadly. Harry didn't understand that Kreacher thought differently than people do… it's not that simple. Yet, if you think about it, perhaps the answer itself was simple. He was glad when Hermione understood and told them what the real case was.

"Harry, Kreacher doesn't think like that," she told him quietly, "He's a slave; house-elves are used to bad, even brutal treatment; what Voldemort did to Kreacher wasn't that far out of the common way. What do wizard wars mean to an elf like Kreacher?"

"Nothing at all," Albus whispered. Once again, certain that the reason that the elves were enslaved in the first place. Because they were so powerful. Life as slaves… this is all they knew. The idea of freedom scares them because they didn't know where they could go or what would happen to them. Even if they were miserable of being tied to their families, it was something familiar, something that they could put up with.

What happened with Dobby was unique. Dobby hated every moment of being with the Malfoy's and was brave enough to want something greater than himself.

"He's loyal to people who are kind to him, and Mrs. Black must have been, and Regulus certainly was," Hermione went on. "So he served them willingly and parroted their beliefs. I know what you're going to say…"

Harry looked ready to say something but she already guess what it was. "That Regulus changed his mind… but he doesn't seem to have explained that to Kreacher, does he? And I think I know why. Kreacher and Regulus's family were all safest if they kept to the old pure-blood line. Regulus was trying to protect them all."

"Sirius – " Harry started.

But Hermione interrupted him bluntly. "Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Harry, and it's no good looking like that, you know it's true. Kreacher had been alone for such a long time when Sirius came to live here, and he was probably starving for a bit of affection. I'm sure 'Miss Cissy' and 'Miss Bella' were perfectly lovely to Kreacher when he turned up, so he did them a favor and told them everything they wanted to know. I've said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did… and so did Sirius."

Albus knew that Hermione didn't mean that Sirius was a cruel person. That he was generally good to elves, and he also knew that Sirius had good reason to be bitter towards Kreacher. Harry looked away from her as he looked at Kreacher sadly. Now that Albus thought about it, maybe Harry could see a little of himself in Kreacher as well. Stuck in a cupboard for years… treated as if you didn't matter…

Harry didn't say anything as he watched Kreacher cry. He knew that it was hard for Harry to forgive Kreacher for his part in Sirius's death. But there was no anger in his face as he looked down at him. "Kreacher…" he said softly, "when you feel up to it, er … please sit up."

At his sudden change in tone, the hint of sadness and compassion that was in his voice, caused Albus to smile. That's right… he finally understands. It was several minutes before Kreacher hiccupped himself into silence. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position again, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes like a small child.

"Kreacher, I am going to ask you to do something," said Harry awkwardly. He looked uncertain as to how to say it and he looked up at Hermione for help. But the softness he was using to speak to Kreacher seemed to have gained her approval as she smiled back and silently urged him to go on.

Harry nodded back before he looked to Kreacher and said carefully, "Kreacher, I want you, please, to go and find Mundungus Fletcher. We need to find out where the locket – where Master Regulus's locket is. It's really important. We want to finish the work Master Regulus started, we want to – er – ensure that he didn't die in vain."

Kreacher slowly stopped crying and looked up at him through red eyes. "Find Mundungus Fletcher?" he croaked as if he was making sure that he heard right.

"And bring him here, to Grimmauld Place," Harry confirmed. "Do you think you could do that for us?"

Kreacher nodded firmly as he got up to his feet. Just then, Harry reached into a small pouch around his neck and took out the fake Horcrux that he had been carrying around with him all this time and gave it to Kreacher, saying that he was sure that Regulus would've been happy if he held onto it.

"Overkill, mate," said Ron just before the elf broke down sobbing once again when he saw it. He flung himself back to the ground and cried endlessly. It took them nearly half an hour to calm down Kreacher, who was so overcome to be presented with a Black family heirloom for his very own that he was too weak at the knees to stand properly. When finally he was able to totter a few steps they all accompanied him to his cupboard and patiently watched as he tucked the necklace safely inside. He turned to them and humbly asked that they keep it safe for him until he returned. And they all promised him that they would keep it safe before he bowed low to Harry and Ron and even tried to give a salute to Hermione before he Disapparated.

Albus could only smile. Like a very wise Muggle once said… you catch more flies with a spoonful of honey than a gallon of vinegar.

All it took was just a few kind words and gestures for them to be able to touch Kreacher's heart and to win his loyalty. Kindness and compassion can do more than anger and bitterness ever could.

Albus kept watched over Kreacher for the next few days, knowing that the trio were safe where they were at the moment. It didn't take long for Kreacher to find Mundungus… but catching him was the hard part. As soon as Mundungus realized that Kreacher was following him, he did his best to try to stay one step ahead of him—he was gifted for escape, Albus gave him that much.

But Kreacher wasn't giving up. Not just because it was an order, but because he knew that this would be his chance to finally fulfill Regulus's wishes and have the locket destroyed. He was far from letting this go.

In concern, Albus kept an eye also on the Order and his teachers. Everyone was holding out as best as they could—though they all seemed to be worried sick over everything happening around them. Each day, more people went into hiding or else simply disappeared and when that happened, that almost always meant that they were…

Albus felt a terrible pang inside whenever he saw a friend or former student appear in this unseen realm. He would greet them and offer them some words of comfort… not for them, but for their families that they had been forced to leave behind before they would leave him and continue on their way.

The Death Eaters now had the full weight of the Ministry behind them at this point. And the punishments that they were putting out towards the Muggle-borns was enough to make him sick. He knew that it was a horrible thought… but he rather see them dead than fed to the Dementors. It was worse than any murder…

However, the Death Eaters could get away with doing just about anything they wanted and had no fear of ever getting punished for it. And to top it all off, they ended up putting a new article in the paper on how Harry was now wanted for killing him.

That had to be some of the biggest rubbish that he had ever heard in his life. Blaming Harry for his death… but as unbelievable as that was, no matter if anyone would believe it, that wasn't the point. It doesn't have to be believable, they weren't looking for people to believe it, and they simply needed an excuse. Voldemort has infiltrated the Ministry but the rest of the Wizarding world didn't know that just yet and Tom wasn't going to broadcast it if he can help it. They just needed an excuse to sear for Harry without it raising suspicion.

And to top it all off, now there was someone else he was deeply concerned for. Remus…

Remus had told Dora and her parents that he had an idea of where to check for Harry, Ron, and Hermione so he was going to see if his hunch worked out. But when he left, Albus had a very good idea as to what Remus was planning on doing. He followed him for a few days as he tried to shake off the Death Eaters that were following him. When he had the chance to escape, he took it and Disapperated to the front steps of Grimmauld Place.

He greeted the three of them, and informed them about everything that had happened after the Death Eaters crashed the wedding. As well as showing them the article about Harry now having the bounty on his head. Naturally, Ron and Hermione let out roars of outrage as Harry stared at the page in horror before he shoved it away from him.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Remus said sadly.

"So Death Eaters have taken over the Daily Prophet too?" asked Hermione furiously. "But surely people realize what's going on?"

It shouldn't have been a shock since the Ministry was the one who ran the Daily Prophet anyway.

"The coup has been smooth and virtually silent," Remus answered. "The official version of Scrimgeour's murder is that he resigned; he has been replaced by Pius Thicknesse, who is under the Imperius Curse."

"Why didn't Voldemort declare himself Minister of Magic?" asked Ron hotly.

Because there was no need for it. He's already the unofficial Minister since he rules over the Death Eaters and they're the ones controlling the Ministry. Remus also knew this as he started to laugh and told them basically the same thing. That now with all these changes, the Wizarding World is basically aware that Voldemort is behind it. But if Voldemort declared himself minister, then he could risk a full out rebellion.

"And this dramatic change in Ministry policy," said Harry, "involves warning the Wizarding world against me instead of Voldemort?"

"That's certainly a part of it," Remus admitted, "and it is a masterstroke. Now that Dumbledore is dead, you – the Boy Who Lived – were sure to be the symbol and rallying point for any resistance to Voldemort. But by suggesting that you had a hand in the old hat's death, Voldemort has not only set a price upon your head, but sown doubt and fear amongst many who would have defended you."

Only Tom doesn't realize that there are countless who are loyal to Harry. They would never believe this… but with the idea that they could pay the price for helping him, it would undoubtedly make things more difficult for them.

Remus sighed as he also told them about a Muggle-born Register. How Muggle-borns were now being blamed for stealing magic. Which has got to be the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard of in his life. How was that even possible? You can't steal magic… for if you could, there wouldn't be Squibs around. No one in their right mind would take that seriously, and that was the point. The Ministry was once again using this as an excuse to get Muggle-borns to come to them and then sentence them to Azkaban if they're lucky unless they could prove they had at least one close Wizarding relative.

All Muggle-borns are being persecuted and now there was no one there to protect them.

The worst part was listening to Remus tell them about what was going on at Hogwarts. How attendance was now compulsory for all the young witches and wizards—this way that Voldemort would be able to have all the children under his eye. Finding more Death Eaters and weeding out Muggle-borns as well.

This felt like someone stabbing him in the heart. Teaching had been the one thing in his life that he had loved more than anything. To know that all those young students would be taken away from their families…? He felt sick with himself for not being able to do anything to help them.

"It's… it's…" Harry muttered softly, but he didn't seem to be able to come up with any better words than he was. Remus however seemed to understand.

"I know," he said gently. He hesitated for a moment before he asked, "I'll understand if you can't confirm this, Harry, but the Order is under the impression that Dumbledore left you a mission."

"He did," Harry replied, "and Ron and Hermione are in on it and they're coming with me."

"Can you confide in me what the mission is?" Remus asked, however, he could tell from his tone that Remus already knew the answer to that. Albus was truly sorry that he couldn't know. But it was for the best. The less who knew about the Horcruxes, the better it would be. If they knew about what it was they were doing, then it could only make their quest that much more difficult… even if they had the best intentions, who knows how much more complicated it can be?

Harry looked at him with a grim expression. "I can't, Remus, I'm sorry. If Dumbledore didn't tell you I don't think I can."

Remus looked disappointed but seemed to accept it. "I thought you'd say that. But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to."

Albus was frowning heavily at Remus, understanding at once what he was planning here. Hermione looked puzzled at the request before she asked, "But what about Tonks?"

"What about her?" Remus asked coldly as Albus shook his head. What was he thinking? There was a difference between leaving to protect someone… and just running away. Oh, he silently hoped that Harry would be able to talk some sense into him.

"Well," said Hermione, frowning, "you're married! How does she feel about you going away with us?"

"Tonks will be perfectly safe," Remus said at once, "She'll be at her parents' house."

But when Hermione asked if there was anything wrong, Remus blurted out that Dora was having a baby.

Now why would he be so upset about it? It was clear to him that Remus was willing to abandon his wife and child. The thought that a child should be forced to grow up without a father didn't sit well with him at all. Yet at the same time, he wasn't surprised that Remus was acting like this. He always knew that he had always been afraid of relationships with others, believing that he could never have a family for fear of his condition.

The other three started to congratulate him, but Remus just went on to ask, "So… do you accept my offer? Will three become four? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined."

"Remus," Albus sighed. "Please… don't do this. If you leave now, you will regret it forever."

Harry seemed to notice that something was wrong as he asked, "Just – just to be clear, you want to leave Tonks at her parents' house and come away with us?"

Albus felt a little bit better. He had made Harry was the leader of this mission and he knew that he would surely be the one to sort him out.

"She'll be perfectly safe there, they'll look after her," Remus said, and his tone was so cold that Harry frowned at him as Remus finished, "Harry, I'm sure James would have wanted me to stick with you."

Now if Remus didn't have a wife and a child on the way then yes, James probably would have. But the reason that he and Lily aren't here to protect Harry was because they don't have a choice, but Remus did. They died to protect their son and did he honestly believe that they would tell him to leave his family like that?

"Well," said Harry slowly, "I'm not. I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with your own kid, actually."

Remus's face turned white as they glared at the other—the other two suddenly nervous.

"You don't understand," Remus said finally.

"Explain, then," said Harry.

Remus swallowed before he said with a slight stutter that he regretted marrying Dora and Albus felt the need to tell him off. Love is supposed to be irrational… you weren't supposed to weight pros and cons.

"I see," said Harry, and his voice was suddenly cold as ice, "so you're just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?"

But at those words Remus jumped to his feet, knocking the chair over in his anger, and seeing the slight trace of the wolf in his face as he growled, "Don't you understand what I've done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her, I've made her an outcast!"

And soon he had gone into a loud rant about what he had done. About how the rest of the world sees him, how people can barely talk to him once they find out about his condition. About how Dora's family must surely be disgusted by this. And the child…

But that child didn't ask to be born—how could Remus reject the infant before they even came into this world? Remus needs to step up and take responsibility for that. Remus looked ready to tear his own hair out as he went on with his rant, "My kind don't usually breed! It will be like me, I am convinced of it – how can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!"

"And how would running change anything? If you leave now, Remus, that child will most certainly be ashamed," Albus sighed.

"Remus!" whispered Hermione, tears in her eyes. "Don't say that – how could any child be ashamed of you?"

"Oh, I don't know, Hermione," said Harry angrily. "I'd be pretty ashamed of him."

It was those words that stopped Remus's rant and looked at Harry as if he had slugged him. Yes, this was just the wakeup call that he needed.

Harry was glaring furiously at Remus. "If the new regime thinks Muggle-borns are bad, what will they do to a half-werewolf whose father's in the Order? My father died trying to protect my mother and me, and you reckon he'd tell you to abandon your kid to go on an adventure with us?"

"How – how dare you?" Remus stuttered, but from the look on his face he knew that what Harry was saying was true. "This is not about a desire for – for danger or personal glory – how dare you suggest such a – "

"I think you're feeling a bit of a daredevil," Harry went on, "You fancy stepping into Sirius's shoes –"

Hermione was at his side, begging for him to stop, but he kept going and finally said, "I'd never have believed this. The man who taught me to fight dementors – a coward."

That was finally too much for Remus. Before anyone could do anything else, he had snapped, he pulled out his wand and stuck at Harry—sending him flying backwards and he crashed into the wall behind them before Remus stared in horror at what he had done. His face white as bone, he turned and ran.

But this was what was needed… no sugar-coated words… the cold hard truth. Because Remus was running from his problems and someone needed to remind him that true courage is doing the right thing no matter how hard it was. He knew what it was like to run from your problems better than anyone after all.

**(Yeah… we're slowly getting to the end. Soon we'll be seeing them breaking into the Ministry and Dumbledore sees everything first-hand. I'm looking forward to seeing this end aren't you?)**


	64. Into the Depths of the Ministry

**Chapter 64: Into the Depths of the Ministry**

Remus freaked out as he ran from the house, slamming the door behind him and disappearing on the spot, going who knows where.

Albus was stunned to say the least, unable to believe that he would react the way that he would. He knew that he was angry at the things that Harry had said, but to lash out that way? Hermione cried after him, trying to get him to come back, but she might as well to the wind for all the good it did before she turned back to Harry and wailed—asking how he could say all that.

"It was easy," Harry answered back, his face full of anger, and rubbing a lump on his head where he had hit the wall. When Hermione looked at him as if she was about to cry he snapped, "Don't look at me like that!"

"Don't you start on her!" Ron jumped in, and it looked like the beginning of a fight before Hermione stood between them and told them they had to stop now.

Ron didn't look ready to let it go however as he told Harry, "You shouldn't have said that stuff to Lupin."

"He had it coming to him," said Harry darkly as he turned his back on them all. Albus nodded grimly, his heart constricting painfully at Harry's next words however, "Parents… shouldn't leave their kids unless – unless they've got to."

And he would know wouldn't he? He knew how painful it had been to grow up without a father… the difference between Remus and James was that James didn't have a choice. If he did, he'd have been here by his son's side this entire time. Someone had to say it… and it was strangely appropriate for Harry to be the one to do so.

Hermione's eyes softened at those words, as if she understood what he was feeling. She stretched out a hand to try and console him, but Harry ignored it as he walked away and stared at the fire, unable to look at them. Albus knew that he was now probably feeling confusion and guilt over the things that he said, but he stood behind him on this. Remus wasn't being brave, and he needed someone to remind him of that.

Harry finally turned to look at them all grim. "I know I shouldn't have called him a coward," he admitted.

"No, you should have," Albus said just as Ron said almost at the same time, "No, you shouldn't."

"But he's acting like one," Harry added, a flash of anger back in his face.

"All the same…" Hermione began.

"But sometime gentle words don't work," Albus sighed. The truth isn't always pleasant to hear… and he was sure that once Remus calmed down, he'd go back to Tonks. Once he realized how he was acting… it was only a matter of time.

"I know," Harry asked them, a slight plea in his voice as they looked at each other. "But if it makes him go back to Tonks, it'll be worth it, won't it?"

"Yes it will be, Harry," Albus answered quietly. "And I'm sure that James would've backed you up. After all, he died trying to protect what he loved."

Harry glanced at the paper and picked it up to read, and Albus saw the picture…

_The Dumbledore family, left to right: Albus; Percival, holding newborn Ariana; Kendra, and Aberforth._

Albus looked away, hoping that Harry wouldn't read it, but he had already opened it and started. By the time that he threw the paper from him, he was looking sickened. Albus was about to open his eyes and return to the mist when there was a loud CRACK. Kreacher had returned and was struggling to hold onto Mundungus Fletcher before he hurried to his feet and bowed low to Harry, croaking out, "Kreacher has returned with the thief Mundungus Fletcher, Master."

In the light of what happened, he had almost forgot about Kreacher and that he had gone after Mundungus. He watched as Hermione quickly disarmed him and Ron tackled him to the ground, holding himself there so that he couldn't hope to escape.

"What?" he bellowed, writhing in his attempts to free himself from Ron's grip. "Wha've I done? Setting a bleedin' 'house-elf on me, what are you playing at, wha've I done, lemme go, lemme go, of – "

"You're not in much of a position to make threats," said Harry coldly as he walked forward, and held his wand there threateningly.

"Kreacher apologizes for the delay in bringing the thief, Master," the elf croaked up at him. "Fletcher knows how to avoid capture, has many hidey-holes and accomplices. Nevertheless, Kreacher cornered the thief in the end."

Yes, Albus certainly knew that. One of the many advantages it had been to have someone like him on their side. But he certainly caused a lot more trouble than he was worth. He only hoped that it wasn't too late to find out where the locket was. This was their only lead.

"You've done really well, Kreacher," said Harry, and the elf bowed low to the compliment before Harry turned back to Mundungus.

"I panicked, okay?" he shouted out loudly, "I never wanted to come along, no offense, mate, but I never volunteered to die for you, an' that was bleedin' You-Know-Who come flying at me, anyone woulda got outta there. I said all along I didn't wanna do it –"

"For your information, none of the rest of us Disapparated," Hermione interrupted coldly. And soon they went into a dark interrogation, pressing him into talking. Harry was maybe enjoying this a little too much as they questioned him, and Albus couldn't say that he didn't find it amusing when Kreacher lost his temper and hit Mundungus over the head with a saucepan.

He burst out laughing at that, feeling better than he had for a long time, even when Harry called for him to stop.

"Perhaps just one more, Master Harry, for luck?" Kreacher asked as he struggled to hold the pan up. Albus was smiling again, now here was the proof… Kreacher really wasn't bad at all since they gave him a chance. Even Ron laughed, and Harry smiled at the request.

"We need him conscious, Kreacher," he said, "but if he needs persuading, you can do the honors."

"Thank you very much, Master," said Kreacher with a bow, and he retreated a short distance, his great pale eyes still fixed upon Mundungus with loathing.

Harry turned back to Mundungus and started asking about the locket and what he did with it. Naturally, it turned out that he no longer had it and he practically gave it away to some Ministry official because she caught him selling without a license and was going to cause him trouble until she took a fancy to the locket and left.

"Who was this woman?" asked Harry.

"I dunno, some Ministry hag," he answered as he frowned for a moment, trying to remember. "Little woman. Bow on top of 'er head."

At those words Albus shook his head exasperatedly. He _had_ to be joking… but what he said next confirmed it for him.

"Looked like a toad."

"Of all the people it could've been…" Albus sighed. Though he supposed that it really wasn't that surprising… selling out doing the right thing for a bribe? Not surprising at all.

The other three were so stunned that Harry dropped his wand and accidently set Mundungus's eyebrows on fire before Hermione put it out. The three of them stared at each other in shock, and Harry's hand unconsciously rubbing the back of his right hand where the words, 'I must not tell lies' shone fainting.

***Weeks later***

Albus watched over them, watching as the month rolled on and they made their plans to break into the Ministry. It was going slow at first as they tried to gather information, but he was impressed by their progress. Their job was only made harder when Death Eaters were keeping watch over Grimmauld Place, as if expecting them to leave at any moment. Truthfully though, he was amused by the fact that three teenage children were outsmarting them time and time again.

Weather they thought that they were honestly naïve enough to head to Hogwarts, or that they might get lucky, he wasn't sure. They were pretty much on their own for now. On September first, Harry came back with grim news about the new teachers at school and Severus now the headmaster.

But it was the Carrows who concerned him. They were Death Eaters and were sure to try to brainwash the students into thinking like them. He couldn't begin to imagine how horrible it will be for them all.

"'I welcome the opportunity to uphold our finest Wizarding traditions and values –' Like committing murder and cutting off people's ears, I suppose! Snape, headmaster! Snape in Dumbledore's study – Merlin's pants!" Hermione shrieked and went running off from the table as the other two boys looked at each other startled.

"'Merlin's pants'?" repeated Ron, looking amused. "She must be upset." He pulled the newspaper toward him to read it for himself before he added, "The other teachers won't stand for this, McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout all know the truth, they know how Dumbledore died. They won't accept Snape as headmaster. And who are these Carrows?"

Unfortunately, they didn't have a choice but to accept it. The only reason they were staying there now was to protect the students from the Carrows.

"Death Eaters," said Harry at once. "There are pictures of them inside. They were at the top of the tower when Snape killed Dumbledore, so it's all friends together. And," he went on bitterly, as he sat next to Ron, "I can't see that the other teachers have got any choice but to stay. If the Ministry and Voldemort are behind Snape it'll be a choice between staying and teaching, or a nice few years in Azkaban – and that's if they're lucky. I reckon they'll stay to try and protect the students."

True. Albus knew his teachers. And they would never leave their students unprotected. As Kreacher brought his food to him—yet another amazing change in the elderly elf—Hermione came back and brought down Phineas Nigellus's portrait.

Ah, so that they can be sure that Severus wouldn't be listening to them. They soon went back to their plans to breaking into the Ministry. Albus wasn't completely sure about that though… the last place that they should be right now would be the Ministry… aside from Hogwarts that is. Getting inside was going to be close to impossible, and then there's finding Umbridge. He had kept a watch on her, sick at the heart of her part in her judging the Muggle-borns, and knew that she did have the locket.

"I think we should do it tomorrow," said Harry, interrupting the two as they argued. Hermione stopped dead so that her jaw fell open in shock and Ron choked over the soup.

"Well," Albus sighed to himself, "That's one way to get their attention."

"Tomorrow?" repeated Hermione. "You aren't serious, Harry?"

"I am," said Harry. "I don't think we're going to be much better prepared than we are now even if we skulk around the Ministry entrance for another month. The longer we put it off, the farther away that locket could be. There's already a good chance Umbridge has chucked it away; the thing doesn't open."

He was making a few fair points. They still needed to find a way to destroy the locket—and it sounds like they're focusing solely on getting it back before that.

"Unless," Ron suggested, "she's found a way of opening it and she's now possessed."

No, he was sure that she was in her right mind, she just didn't care about what she was doing. She used it to try and boost her own Pureblood status, and the dark influence was making her even more foul to begin with.

"Wouldn't make any difference to her, she was so evil in the first place," Harry shrugged and Albus smirked a little at that, though it was a bit forced.

"We know everything important," Harry went on, addressing Hermione, who still didn't look convinced. "We know they've stopped Apparition in and out of the Ministry; we know only the most senior Ministry members are allowed to connect their homes to the Floo Network now, because Ron heard those two Unspeakables complaining about it. And we know roughly where Umbridge's office is, because of what you heard the bearded bloke saying to his mate –"

"'I'll be up on level one, Dolores wants to see me,'" Hermione recited immediately as if she were in class.

"Exactly," Harry went on hurriedly, "And we know you get in using those funny coins, or tokens, or whatever they are, because I saw that witch borrowing one from her friend – "

"But we haven't got any!" Hermione pointed out.

"If the plan works, we will have," Harry continued calmly.

Albus nodded. He knew that they had been watching the Ministry for a few weeks, and they were pretty prepared, but they still had a long way to go. He would've suggested that they wait a couple more days, but every second counted. Hermione was pointing this out, that there was a chance that so much that could go wrong, and that they were going to depend mostly on luck to pull this off.

Ah, but isn't that how most of their adventures went? He thought that they had done an amazing job so far. They had spent weeks spying and eavesdropping on officials from the Ministry as they hung around the main entrance.

"All right," said Ron slowly, "let's say we go for it tomorrow … I think it should just be me and Harry."

Albus shook his head, knowing better than anyone how well Hermione was going to take the news. And sure enough she was telling him off for that. The usual argument about who should stay and who should go… it always ended with them pointing out how they were all in danger. That Hermione was a Muggle-born and hadn't presented herself for interrogation, how Ron was supposed to be dying of spattergroit, and Harry now has that bounty on his head.

The truth was they were all at risk and they were better off working together. They were strongest that way.

Just then, Harry's hand shot to his forehead and Albus knew at once that his scar must've been bothering him again. A terrible feeling, as if his stomach had been filled with ice, began to fill up in worry, and instinctively reached out to touch him. Only for him to remember that he could no longer do that.

He stepped backwards, his heart suddenly heavy as he watched Harry get up from the table and run. He managed to make it to the bathroom and he watched miserably as Harry fell to his knees and then to his side as he held onto his head, and screamed out in agony. At his screams, Ron and Hermione had both run after him and she was pounding on the door, calling his name anxiously. It had been several minutes before Harry was able to regain control. Gritting his teeth in pain, Harry forced himself up and let them in.

"What were you doing?" asked Hermione sternly.

"What d'you think I was doing?" asked Harry, trying to sound bold, but it came out weakly.

"You were yelling your head off!" Ron said loudly.

"Oh yeah," Harry said distractedly, "I must've dozed off or – "

Harry, do honesty think that would work? Albus shook his head, ready to hear another argument between them.

"Harry, please don't insult our intelligence," said Hermione, taking deep breaths. "We know your scar hurt downstairs, and you're white as a sheet."

Harry didn't answer for a moment before he sat on the edge of the bathtub and confessed what he saw. Voldemort had murdered a woman, and most likely her whole family when he was looking for Gregorovitch.

Albus shook his head, his heart going out to that poor family.

"Harry, you aren't supposed to let this happen anymore!" Hermione cried out, close to screaming. "Dumbledore wanted you to use Occlumency! He thought the connection was dangerous – Voldemort can use it, Harry! What good is it to watch him kill and torture, how can it help?"

Maybe, but Harry didn't have much of a choice. And he felt guilt once more at the thought that he never learned Occlumency properly. If he had only explained why it was so important, maybe if he had taught him himself…?

"Because it means I know what he's doing," Harry answered coldly.

Albus had mixed feelings for that. Voldemort it blocking himself from Harry at the moment, and probably doesn't even realize that Harry can see into his mind now… but that doesn't mean that…?

"So you're not even going to try to shut him out?" Hermione demanded.

"Hermione, I can't," Harry told her tiredly, "You know I'm lousy at Occlumency. I never got the hang of it."

"You never really tried!" she said hotly. "I don't get it, Harry – do you like having this special connection or relationship or what – whatever – "

Albus winced, knowing that she went too far that time. Severus had cancelled the lessons himself, and he knew that he never actually taught him. Though he knew it was from fear for Harry's safety, he was surprised that Hermione could say that… no one could possibly enjoy seeing this.

Harry gave her such a dark look that her voice died in her throat.

"Like it?" he said quietly. "Would you like it?"

"I – no – I'm sorry, Harry," she mumbled, "I just didn't mean – "

"I hate it," Harry said firmly, "I hate the fact that he can get inside me, that I have to watch him when he's most dangerous. But I'm going to use it."

Even though he hated the idea of Harry knowing what Voldemort feels like and thinks, he had to admit using it against him is a good idea, especially since it doesn't look as if he realizes that Harry was seeing these things yet. He was wary of this connection, but he was sure that once again Voldemort didn't know that Harry was seeing glimpse into his mind. He didn't know how that could be, seeing as he knew that Voldemort was now aware of this and could only assume that Voldemort had put up defenses against Harry that were now not working. If that was true, it wasn't so bad that Harry knew what Voldemort was planning, but it could still be dangerous.

"Dumbledore –" she began firmly.

"Forget Dumbledore," Harry said indifferently. "This is my choice, nobody else's. I want to know why he's after Gregorovitch."

At those words, Albus flinched. Obviously, the lies Skeeter had printed had affected him far more greatly than he hoped.

"Who?" Hermione asked, taken aback by the name.

"He's a foreign wandmaker," said Harry impatiently and he told them about how Krum mentioned him at the wedding. But Ron reminded him that Voldemort had Ollivander locked up as well, so why would he need another wandmaker.

More than one reason. Not only was Ollivander unable to help him with beating Harry's wand, he thinks that Gregorovitch still might have the Elder Wand.

"Maybe he agrees with Krum, maybe he thinks Gregorovitch is better," Harry offered, "Or else he thinks Gregorovitch will be able to explain what my wand did when he was chasing me, because Ollivander didn't know."

The two of them exchanged skeptical looks, clearly doubting what Harry was saying about his wand. But Albus had a very good idea to what was happening. Harry and Hermione had another argument, with Hermione claiming that Harry had been the one who did that, and asking why he was determined not to take responsibility for his own powers.

Harry argued that he knew that it hadn't been him, and Voldemort knew that as well. They glared at each other, looking ready to go on before Ron interrupted them, reminding them that if they were going into the Ministry tomorrow, they should go over the plan.

Hermione didn't look the least bit happy about this, and Albus was willing to bet that she would bring this conversation up again when she next could. He watched them talk about their plans well into the night before he opened his eyes and gazed sadly across the mist. He was nervous to see if they could pull this off, but they had gone over the plan, they were good at improvising and thinking on their feet… he only hoped it would be enough.

He looked up in time to see a woman and her family appearing through the mist and he sighed as he rose to greet them.

***The Next Day***

The next day, he kept a watchful eye on them, hoping that they would be able to pull this off. He watched as they appeared in an alleyway outside the Ministry's entrance. They were waiting for the first Ministry workers to appear, with Hermione nervous and jumpy the whole time. Albus smiled a little, remembering how gifted she was at making plans, but when it comes to going through with it, she tended to forget things due to nerves.

The first part of their plan worked very well. Dear Mafalda Hopkirk arrived early for work that day, and he winced a little when he saw them forced to stun her and drag her into the alleyway before taking a few of her hairs and putting them in the Polyjuice Potion that she had managed acquire from Alastor's stash.

Not the worst person she could have picked. Mafalda was a half-blood, but her family line was well known so she shouldn't have any worries of interrogation, as well as being relatively high up in the Ministry.

They passed Hermione the tokens that she would need to get inside and became Mafalda's double, even taking her spectacles before they checked the time and waited for Reginald Cattermole. But Albus also knew that his wife was one of the people called in for interviewing today, and he wasn't going to be as easy to take out.

But he didn't stand a chance. When he arrived, he greeted Hermione (Mafalda) and she had giving him a Puking Pastille. Before he knew it, soon he was sick and unable to walk straight. As he coughed and struggled to breathe, Albus spotted Hermione yanking out a few hairs as he was struggling to continue to try and head inside where his wife was waiting.

After several minutes, and Hermione's coaxing, Reginald finally accepted that she was right and left for St. Mungo's at once.

"Urgh," said Hermione, looking around for the boys. "It would have made much less mess to Stun him too."

"Yeah," said Ron, suddenly reappearing from under the cloak and held up Reginald's bag that he managed to steal when he wasn't looking, "but I still think a whole pile of unconscious bodies would have drawn more attention. Keen on his job, though, isn't he? Chuck us the hair and the potion, then."

True… Albus could see where he was coming from, but with his wife in interrogation right now, he was sure to come back as soon as he could. After taking on his form, Ron took on Reginald's appearance before they left, telling Harry to wait until they found someone inside the Ministry for him to impersonate. In the end, they came back about ten minutes later with hair they took from Albert Runcorn, a Death Eater sympathizer. With Hermione taking another quick drink of Polyjuice Potion to maintain her disguise, they all entered together and headed to the bathrooms. And Albus was unable to bite back the snort of laughter when he saw someone call to Ron, "Blooming pain in the bum, this, eh? Forcing us all to get to work this way! Who are they expecting to turn up, Harry Potter?"

Oh the irony.

"Yeah," Ron asked with a forced chuckle, "stupid, isn't it?"

And this was an interesting way to get into the Ministry these days, by flushing themselves in. He went on ahead into the Atrium, waiting for the three to show up and went over to the center where the fountain once stood, and glared in disgust at the statue of the witch and wizard sitting on the thrones.

His eyes were drawn to the carvings of the Muggles all twisted and pressed together to support the thrones that they had become. It was horrible and disgusting. Not that he was ever fond of the old statue, but still… how could anyone bare to look at this every day? He always thought the Fountain of Magical Brethren was bad enough, but for this, he couldn't even look at it without feeling a surge of anger rise up inside him.

Soon though, Ron and Hermione were staring up at the statue with equal looks of revulsion. Once Harry joined them and they began searching for Dolores Umbridge. When they passed through the gates and into the hall, heading to the lifts, when he heard someone call out. He looked and scowled when he saw Yaxley striding over towards them as if he owned the place.

He then came over to Ron and began to threaten him about getting the rain to stop in his office or else he was going to make things much more difficult for him and his wife. But Albus shook his head as he watched Yaxley leave with that same unpleasant smile, and he knew that he wouldn't have spared Mary Cattermole even if his office wasn't raining.

Albus followed the three of them into their left, Ron now looking stricken. "What am I going to do?" he asked them terrified. "If I don't turn up, my wife… I mean, Cattermole's wife – "

"We'll come with you, we should stick together –" Harry told him, but Ron was already shaking his head.

"That's mental, we haven't got much time," he said quickly. "You two find Umbridge, I'll go and sort out Yaxley's office – but how do I stop it raining?"

Dumbledore knew that it was a prank by some of the other Ministry workers, their own private way of fighting back against the known Death Eaters here. Though he knew that they didn't mean harm to the rest of their workers, an angry Death Eater was always bound to cause trouble.

"Try Finite Incantatem," said Hermione at once, "that should stop the rain if it's a hex or curse; if it doesn't something's gone wrong with an Atmospheric Charm, which will be more difficult to fix, so as an interim measure try Impervius to protect his belongings – "

Ron was searching his pockets for a quill, but then they reached level four and several others came in. Albus was worried about this, though he had a feeling that this would've happened. They were going to be separated, and Ron would be forced to do what he could for Yaxley's office, otherwise the Cattermoles will be forced to pay the price.

Once they reached level 2, Hermione pushed Ron out and he hurried along, followed by the others so that Harry and Hermione were alone. But Hermione turned back to Harry and whispered, "Actually, Harry, I think I'd better go after him, I don't think he knows what he's doing and if he gets caught the whole thing – "

But the words were no sooner out of her mouth did they reach level 1, and waiting there was none other than the very person they had been looking for.

"Ah, Mafalda!" said Umbridge, looking at Hermione. "Travers sent you, did he?"

"Y-yes," squeaked Hermione.

"Good, you'll do perfectly well." Umbridge spoke Thicknesse. "That's that problem solved. Minister, if Mafalda can be spared for record-keeping we shall be able to start straightaway." She consulted her clipboard. "Ten people today and one of them the wife of a Ministry employee!

Albus shook his head, knowing that this wasn't going to end well. And as he dreaded, they were all split up. Ron would be down trying to make a room stop raining and to make sure that Mary wouldn't be convicted, Hermione would be forced to oversee the interrogations, and Harry was now stuck on Level 1 with who knows what else could happen. The Horcrux just walked right past him and now their plan was ruined for now.

Harry left the lift and he looked back in time to see Hermione's fearful face before they went out of sight. This wasn't good… but, Harry had always worked best when there wasn't a plan to fall back on. He hoped that their luck hadn't run out by now. At least now they knew where Umbridge would be, and if they were careful, their plan might still work.

Harry shared a brief word with Thicknesse, briefly mentioning Arthur Weasley. And Albus only hoped that it wouldn't get Arthur into trouble.

"Ah, well. It's only a matter of time," said Thicknesse. "If you ask me, the blood traitors are as bad as the Mudbloods. Good day, Runcorn."

Albus shook his head, trying to remind himself that Thicknesse is under the Imperius Curse and that he had no idea of what he was saying or doing.

"Good day, Minister," Harry said as he made sure to watch him march away before he pulled the Cloak out and threw it over his head. But Albus could still see right through to him and followed after. It wouldn't hurt to check Umbridge's office just to be on the safe side.

When he found the right room, Albus could see the dozen witches and wizards sitting in school desks as they worked. He didn't need to step closer to know what they were printing…

Mudbloods

And the Dangers They Pose to

A Peaceful Pure-Blood Society

He heard one of them whisper, "Will the old hag be interrogating Mudbloods all day, does anyone know?"

He shook his head at the disgusting word as someone whispered to her, "Careful."

"What," she hissed, "Has she got magic ears as well as an eye, now?"

Albus sighed, knowing just what they were talking about. He went to Dolores's door and she could see the familiar magical eye sticking out through the door where she would be watching them all. What infuriated him just as much were the plaques right beneath it…

Dolores Umbridge

Senior Undersecretary to the Minister

Head of the Muggle-Born

Registration Commission

Albus could feel his face turning into the scowl as he fought the waves of sickness that was rolling inside him. How did that woman sleep at night? Did she not feel any regret? Shame? Or even Guilt for all the people she hurts? Or is her soul just so rotten on the inside that she had lost the ability to feel anything?

He forced himself to look away as he spotted Harry pull out one of the Decoy Detonators that he had seen in the Weasley's joke shop. He watched as it scuttled from under the Cloak and went running off a decent distance away before it exploded in a loud bang, and released a great acrid, cloud of smoke into the air. Pink pages from the pamphlets flew over the place and there screams as they tried to figure out what happened.

During all this, Harry quietly snuck inside Dolores's office and closed the door behind him; and Albus couldn't help but chuckle slightly. That was done perfectly, in face if he didn't know better, he'd swear that Harry had done this before. He looked around the office, and his good mood faded. This place looked just like her office back at Hogwarts. Everything from the dried flowers, the kitten ornamental plates, to the flowered cloth covering the desk.

He rolled his eyes, when he spotted the telescope attached to the door, knowing that Alastor would be rolling in his grave right about now if he knew all this. So she has nothing better to do with her time than spy on the other workers? It wouldn't surprise him in the slightest if he found out that she did as much work as she did when she was still a 'teacher'.

To his surprise, or maybe not so surprise, Harry went to the door, where the magical eye was attached to the telescope and pulled it out. He had mixed feelings… he knew that he was doing that for Alastor, but that was sure to get them into trouble. Not that he expected Harry to do anything less… just the thought of Alastor's eye there was too much to bear.

Harry tried to summon the locket, but of course nothing happened. Dolores had the necklace with her, but how to get to it was the question. Harry then went around her desk and began to look through it, throwing out all kinds of useless stuff, hoping to find something to help, but coming up empty. He then went looking through the filing cabinet, searching it and surprisingly finding Arthur Weasley's name in there.

Albus looked over Harry's shoulder to see what it said, though he had a very good idea already:

**Arthur Weasley**

**Blood Status:**

**Pureblood, but with unacceptable pro-Muggle leanings. Known member of the Order of the Phoenix.**

**Family:**

**Wife (pureblood), seven children, two youngest at Hogwarts. NB: Youngest son currently at home, seriously ill, Ministry inspectors have confirmed.**

Good. Their plan had worked out perfectly and no one was suspicious.

**Security Status:**

**TRACKED. All movements are being monitored. Strong likelihood Undesirable No. 1 will contact (has stayed with Weasley family previously)**

Undesirable No. 1? Yes, that was what they were calling Harry these days wasn't it? He fought a laugh… only Harry would be the most wanted person by the Ministry, and then just go walking in through the front doors like this.

"Undesirable Number One," he heard Harry mutter under his breath before he put the file back and shut the door. That was when he noticed the poster on the wall and went over to it. It was a poster of himself, with the words UNDESIRABLE NO. 1 emblazoned across his chest and he went to the little pink note attached to it.

Albus read it as well and he felt anger roar up inside him when he saw the three words: _To be punished._

He knew better than anyone the views of what's right and wrong can change as often as the tides. But Umbridge… what did Harry ever do to be punished for?

In anger himself, Harry began to look through every little inch of the office, but didn't seem surprised to see that nothing was there. He looked ready to just leave before he suddenly went over to the bookcase and picked up a book, and Albus groaned at the sight of it. He knew just what the book was…

Harry opened it at random and was flipping through the pages, before he looked away, terrified at what Harry was reading now. In fact, he was almost grateful when he heard the door open and Harry was forced to put the book down and pull the cloak over his head.

Thicknesse had come in and froze for a moment, looking curiously at where Harry was, as if he had seen something. But after a moment, he seemed to dismiss it as he walked to the desk and used his wand to write a note before Harry slipped out. Albus followed after him as they slipped passed the ones still gathered around what was left of the Decoy Detonator.

And he was glad to hear them say, "I bet it sneaked up here from Experimental Charms, they're so careless, remember that poisonous duck?"

He let out a wild laugh, glad that the decoy works even better when people have a reasonable answer for why it was there. He kept up with Harry as he hurried back to the lifts, and he could see from the anxious look on his face. If he knew him as well as he thought, then he knew that he was trying to think of a way out of here. All they had to do was find each other and then quickly leave before their Polyjuice Potion wore off.

Getting the Horcux was important, but getting out was their priority right now. Yet, he also knew that them coming back another day could be even more dangerous… he shook his head. If only they could get to Umbridge once again and see the locket… they could steal it and then escape…

First thing's first though. He had to find Ron, and together get Hermione out of the courtrooms before they left. If they hurried…

But as the next lift arrived, Harry jumped in and pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and went downwards. With a shred of luck, Ron—soaked to the bone—got inside when it reached level two.

"M-morning," he stammered to Harry as the lift set off again.

"Ron, it's me, Harry!" Harry said to him quickly.

"Harry! Blimey, I forgot what you looked like –

"Ron…" Albus whispered, "You need to remember things… oh well… no harm done."

"Why isn't Hermione with you?" Ron pressed on.

"She had to go down to the courtrooms with Umbridge," Harry whispered, "She couldn't refuse, and –"

But before Harry could finish the lift had stopped again. The doors opened and this time it was Arthur who stepped inside with Wakanda—he remembered her from school.

"… I quite understand what you're saying, Wakanda, but I'm afraid I cannot be party to – "

But then he noticed who was in the lift with them, and he gave Harry—still looking like Runcorn—a look of deep dislike. He didn't say anything at first as they continued downwards together, until Arthur noticed that Ron was dripping wet.

"Oh hello, Reg," he said, "Isn't your wife in for questioning today? Er – what's happened to you? Why are you so wet?"

"Yaxley's office is raining," said Ron, not able to look him in the eye, as if afraid that his father would see through his disguise if he did. "I couldn't stop it, so they've sent me to get Bernie – Pillsworth, I think they said –"

"Yes, a lot of offices have been raining lately," Arthur nodded. "Did you try Meterolojinx Recanto? It worked for Bletchley."

"Meteolojinx Recanto?" whispered Ron. "No, I didn't. Thanks, D – I mean, thanks, Arthur."

It was a good thing that he stopped himself. It really would've given them away and Arthur would then be worried sick over the fact that they were here. The doors opened and Wakanda left with Ron. Harry looked ready to follow, but Percy Weasley strode inside, his nose so buried in the papers that he was reading, that he didn't realize his father was there with them.

Albus sighed. He knew that Percy wanted so badly to make up with his family, but with everyone watching him, he couldn't risk it and put them all in danger at the same time. When he looked up and saw Arthur, he turned bright red and turned to leave, but the doors had already closed.

It was a stiff, awkward silence as they went down to the next floor. As soon as the doors opened, Percy almost ran out without even looking at his father. Harry made to follow, but then Arthur stopped him by holding out his arm.

"One moment, Runcorn," he said coldly, and then the lift doors closed again. As they clanked down to the next floor, he went on, "I hear you had information about Dirk Cresswell."

Albus shook his head, knowing that Arthur's stress was close to the boiling point. But seeing how his son just walked out as if nothing happened.

"Sorry?" Harry asked.

"Don't pretend, Runcorn," Arthur whispered fiercely. "You tracked down the wizard who faked his family tree, didn't you?"

"I – so what if I did?" said Harry uncertainly, looking like he rather be anywhere but here at the moment.

"So Dirk Cresswell is ten times the wizard you are," said Arthur quietly, as the lift sank ever lower. "And if he survives Azkaban, you'll have to answer to him, not to mention his wife, his sons, and his friends –"

Maybe… but Arthur shouldn't be trying to make a point of it. He was just lucky that it wasn't the real Runcorn who he was talking to.

"Arthur," Harry interrupted, "you know you're being tracked, don't you?"

"Is that a threat, Runcorn?" Arthur demanded loudly, looking ready to pull out his wand and start a duel.

"No," said Harry, "it's a fact! They're watching your every move –"

Now perhaps Albus was imagining it. But maybe there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes when he looked at him. But if it was there, he shook his head hard and decided it was nothing. When the lifts opened again and they were in the Atrium, Arthur gave him one last dark look before he walked out without a glance back.

Harry stood there alone in the lift until they were moving again and headed downwards. Once he felt that it was safe, he pulled out the Cloak and threw it over his head. Albus could almost read his mind at that moment, he would try to get Hermione on his own before they went back for Ron and got out.

When they stepped off to the floor of the Department of Mysteries, he could almost feel him shivering next to him. Yes, this place was sure to bring back bad memories.

Harry took a deep breath before he followed after him. He had been here before during his ridiculous trial two years ago, which was a good thing now. He knew just where to go. Now… how to get Hermione out of there? Runcorn does have a great level of importance in the Ministry these days. So he could merely come in and ask to see Mafalda… but if she never came back, that would trigger a search… they could still be somewhere in this place with no way to get out. He wouldn't use that unless he had to.

But as they went deeper into the halls, he felt the unnatural chill of cold and he groaned out. Dementors… of course Umbridge would want them here. That isn't good… People knew about Harry's Patronus… they would know it was him from the start.

And at the passage to the courtrooms there were dozens of Dementors waiting there… those poor Muggle-borns were huddled and shivering on benches not far from them. Most of them were hiding their faces in their hands, perhaps in an instinctive attempt to shield themselves from the dementors' greedy mouths. Some were accompanied by families, others sat alone. The dementors were gliding up and down in front of them, and the cold, and the hopelessness, and the despair of the place laid themselves like a curse….

Albus's hands clenched into fists. They were keeping Muggle-borns imprisoned with Dementors before they were even brought in for questioning. They weren't animals or criminals… it disgusted him to think of how Umbridge—how the Ministry—could get away with all this.

Harry was shivering as he forced himself to walk past them. The Dementors looked up, their hoods turned in his direction and he knew they sensed him.

Albus couldn't help but feel the pride inside him at that. He knew that Harry's greatest fear was… and he was still forcing himself to walk passed his worst fear defenselessly. But then, one of the dungeon doors burst open and he could hear the screams…

"No, no, I'm half-blood, I'm half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he was, look him up, Arkie Alderton, he's a well known broomstick designer, look him up, I tell you – get your hands off me, get your hands off –"

"This is your final warning," said Umbridge's soft voice, magically magnified so that it sounded clearly over the man's desperate screams. "If you struggle, you will be subjected to the Dementor's Kiss."

Albus stepped back; this was disgusting. A Dementor's Kiss for this. What is worse is Umbridge has no excuse. This is all her personality. No imperious or coercion from Voldemort, since she isn't a Death Eater.

With no other choice, the man stopped screaming and struggling, but he could hear his sobs as two Dementors appeared and dragged him away.

"Next – Mary Cattermole," called Umbridge.

Albus turned at once and could see Mary forcing herself to get up. She was shaking so badly and her face so white that she seemed ready to faint. Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment before he went following right after her.

Why wasn't he surprised?

He followed after them as well into one of the smaller courtrooms. There were more dementors in here, casting their freezing aura over the place; they stood like faceless sentinels in the corners farthest from the high, raised platform. Here, behind a balustrade, sat Umbridge, with Yaxley on one side of her, and Hermione, quite as white-faced as Mrs. Cattermole, on the other.

At the foot of the platform, most likely to keep her from feeling the effects of the Dementors, was Umbridge's long-haired cat prowling up and down. Mary stumbled to the seat in the middle of the room and sat down—and Albus felt more rage when the chains bound her arms there so that she couldn't move.

"You are Mary Elizabeth Cattermole?" asked Umbridge and then began her questioning… it was horrible to watch. Mary was at their mercy, forced to answer all of their questions as he watched Harry go up the platform to where Hermione was. He had been right, the Patronus was keeping _them_ safe from the Dementors. He was sure that Dolores Umbridge was so happy here, in her element, upholding the twisted laws she had helped to write.

Hermione suddenly jumped, and he assumed that Harry let her know that he was there.

But he stayed with Mary, trying to offer her words of encouragement, even though he knew that she couldn't hear him. But to just give her a little bit of comfort in this horrible, dark place… to remind her she wasn't alone… it was all he could do.

He's anger rose when they began to ask her who she stole the wand from. Took a wand… that has got to be the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. They knew full well that a Muggle couldn't use a wand. Even if they did get their hands on one, it would just be an ordinary stick in their hands. Mary started to sob, trying to tell them that she didn't take it. She bought it when she was eleven and it had chosen her. When she started to cry, Umbridge laughed in such a way that Albus wanted nothing more than to curse her into oblivion.

But when she leaned forward to look at Mary better, to act superior, he could see the locket shining at her neck.

He looked over to see that Harry and Hermione had spotted it as well. Hermione even let out a little squeak when she did, though Umbridge and Yaxley didn't notice it. Umbridge ordered Hermione to pass the questionnaire to her… looking so toad like, he half expected to see webbing between her fingers.

Hermione's hands were shaking has she fumbled the papers before she pointed to the locket and stuttered how pretty it was.

"What?" she snapped, looking at it before she patted it fondly. "Oh yes – an old family heirloom. The S stands for Selwyn…. I am related to the Selwyns…"

What a liar. He knew for a fact that she wasn't even pureblood. It was proof in the way she acted… acts of superiority over Muggle-borns and half humans… now that he thought about it, it seems like she fears them all and he wondered if that was the reason. She would be willing to use anything to bolster her blood.

Of course, she was also related to toads he was sure… he couldn't see just what was so special about that.

"Indeed, there are few pure-blood families to whom I am not related. A pity," she continued in a louder voice, flicking through Mrs. Cattermole's questionnaire, "that the same cannot be said for you. 'Parents professions: greengrocers'."

Albus's was itching to curse her now—her and Yaxley, who was jeering at poor Mary.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed to have lost it completely though as he pulled out his wand and not even bothered to hide himself as he said, "Stupefy!"

No… not yet. And not now! That was the last thing he should've done… but at the same time he couldn't blame him one bit for that. And he watched with a great deal of satisfaction of seeing Umbridge crumple where she sat and her Patronus vanished. Yaxley, in confusion, was staring around wildly for the attacker before Harry stunned him and he fell to the ground out cold.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, getting up.

"Hermione, if you think I was going to sit here and let her pretend –" Harry retorted angrily.

"Harry, Mrs. Cattermole!" she screamed and Albus's heart frozen when he saw the Dementors flocking to Mary, who was screaming in fear as they forced her head back.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry screamed and the silver stag emerged, more powerful and warming than the cat's had been. Its light filled the whole dungeon and the Dementors fell backwards away from it, as if afraid they'd be burned.

Once again, Albus was stunned at the bright light the Patronus created when it appeared. He remembered the first time he saw it at the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw years ago… how stunned and shaken he was to have seen one of the most powerful Patronus's he had ever seen in his life.

"Get the Horcrux," Harry told Hermione as he stuffed the Cloak away and went to Mary.

"You?" she whispered, gazing into his face. "But – but Reg said you were the one who submitted my name for questioning!"

"Did I?" muttered Harry, tugging at the chains binding her arms, "Well, I've had a change of heart. Diffindo!" Nothing happened.

He'd have to use something stronger on those chains. Goblin made… that wasn't going to be that easy to break. He turned to Hermione and asked how to break the cuffs. He snapped at her to hurry before she snapped, "I know that, Harry, but if she wakes up and the locket's gone – I need to duplicate it – Geminio!" And in its place was a fake locket, identical to the one they had taken. "There… That should fool her…."

She ran over and broke the chains and Mary stared up at them in fear. "I don't understand," she whispered.

"You're going to leave here with us," said Harry, pulling her to her feet. "Go home, grab your children, and get out, get out of the country if you've got to. Disguise yourselves and run. You've seen how it is, you won't get anything like a fair hearing here."

Albus smiled proudly, glad that he was able to help her… and most likely those other Muggle-borns. Good… he was becoming a better leader with every passing day.

"Harry," said Hermione, "how are we going to get out of here with all those dementors outside the door?"

"Patronuses," said Harry, pointing his wand at his own. The stag slowed and walked, still gleaming brightly, toward the door. "As many as we can muster; do yours, Hermione."

"Expec – Expecto patronum," said Hermione, and again, Hermione's problem with stressful situations kicks in.

"It's the only spell she ever has trouble with," Harry told Mary before she looked at them both, baffled to what was going on. "Bit unfortunate, really… Come on Hermione…"

She looked to be having trouble coming up with a happy thought or feeling, but after a few seconds she conjured up a graceful silver otter from her wand and at the sight of it, she seemed to be given a little more encouragement.

"C'mon," said Harry, and he led the women to the doors and outside the dungeon, where the people outside gasped in shock at the sight of them. He was sure that at least some of them realized who it really was. Harry doesn't realize just how recognizable his Patronus is…

Harry didn't focus on that though, he looked around at the retreating Dementors before he told them all that he decided that you should all go home and go into hiding with your families, all of them dazzled by the Patronus's. He just told them to get as far away as possible from the Ministry and to follow the Patronus's to the Atrium where they would leave because it was the new official position.

The new official position is it? Albus loved this… and he couldn't have been more proud of what they were doing. They got the Locket and helping these people… but they couldn't relax yet. They had to hurry and get them all out before they could celebrate.

But this makes it a good cover story for them as well. It wouldn't make much sense to the Order members when they hear about it, but to the Death Eaters, they would expect them to do something like this. He could only imagine what people would think if they heard that Harry got in and out of the Ministry without getting caught.

They managed to get up to the lifts without being intercepted, and to their luck, Ron had just appeared. At the sight of him, Mary flung herself at him, telling him that they should go home and get the children.

Ron nodded absentmindedly before he turned to Harry and told him, "Harry, they know there are intruders inside the Ministry, something about a hole in Umbridge's office door. I reckon we've got five minutes if that –"

Albus had been afraid of that. He didn't care how they did it, just as long as they got out. He knew that he would've done the same thing in Harry's place…

In fear, Hermione's silver otter vanished and she turned to Harry as she whispered, "Harry, if we're trapped here – !"

"We won't be if we move fast," said Harry, spinning around to the others, gawping at him—and if they didn't know who he really was before, they were sure to by now.

"Who's got wands?" he asked them all quickly, and half of them raised their hands and he gave them all orders. Sounding like a real leader here, he told them that those who didn't have wands were to attack themselves to someone who did and they need to hurry as they took them upstairs.

It was a good idea. It would be terrible if any of them were left behind while they were attempting to escape. They'd be sent straight to Azkaban… and that's if they're lucky.

He held his breath as opened his eyes, but shut them almost at once again so that he was in the Atrium and waited. It seemed to take a lifetime of waiting for them to appear. He was pacing back and forth, and knew that they were in trouble now. Everyone knew that there were intruders, and the Atrium was full of people sealing off the fireplaces. He wanted to do something, anything to help, but he couldn't do anything anymore.

The lift finally came up and they all piled up. He went over to them in time to hear Hermione squeak and point to what was going on. As soon as he saw them, Harry thundered in Runcorn's voice, now taking full advantage of the man's position, "STOP!"

Yet again, finding and impersonating Runcorn had been a good thing. Hopefully, this ploy will last just long enough for them to get outside. If they could do that much then they were in the clear…

Harry told the others to follow him, and Albus was once again amazed at how he was albe to keep his head during all this. Most would be freaking out, unsure of what to do.

"What's up, Albert?" someone called nervously.

"This lot need to leave before you seal the exits," Harry said, and used with a tone of authority that he never heard from him before.

The other wizards were looking at each other, not sure of what to do as they tried to tell him that they had been told to seal off all the exits and not let anyone out.

"Are you contradicting me?" Harry blustered, and it was now a good thing that he had run into Arthur from before. "Would you like me to have your family tree examined, like I had Dirk Cresswell's?"

"Brilliant," Albus said proudly. That was quick thinking, and it was good he was able to get that information from Arthur and remember it.

And his words sure got their attention. Terrified, they backed away at once as Harry told them all that they're blood was pure. Purer than any of theirs and told them to get lost. In fact, those words were probably truer than even he realized.

As he ordered the Muggle-borns to leave, something else happened…

"Oh no…" Albus groaned.

"Mary!" Reginald called, pale and sickly, had just come out of another lift.

This was the worst thing that could've happened to them. Ron swore loudly as the wizard in charge of the lifts stared from one Reg to the other. "Hey – what's going on? What is this?" he demanded before Yaxley barreled in.

"Seal the exit! SEAL IT!"

Ron pulled Mary through the fires as Harry punched the balding wizard before he screamed, "He's been helping Muggle-borns escape, Yaxley!"

Confused, Yaxley looked from Harry to the punched wizard, while Reginald Cattermole was screaming out who that was with his wife. With Reginald yelling, Yaxley seemed to put two and two together. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand, and he could see their disguises starting to wear off. They jumped into the fire as Yaxley's curse just missed Harry's head.

Albus followed them up into the bathrooms where Ron was at the sinks, trying to pull himself free of Mary. "Reg, I don't understand –"

"Let go, I'm not your husband," Ron finally shouted. "You've got to go home!"

"Look out!" Albus called, but it was too late. Yaxley appeared and Harry grabbed Hermione and Ron as he turned on the spot. But at the last second Yaxley made a diving leap and caught Hermione by the helm of her robe and caught a ride.

**(Oh, that sure wasn't a good day was it? How was it though? I hope you all enjoyed it. and we'll soon go on to when Ron leaves and Godric's Hallow.)**


	65. Treasures of the Heart

**Chapter 65: Treasures of the Heart**

Why can't things go as well as we plan them? Albus had been wondering about that for years, and still, he isn't able to come up with any real answers. But they escaped… that was all that was important… until he saw what had happened and where it went wrong…

Yaxley had grabbed hold of Hermione just a fraction of a second before they had disapparated, and they brought him along with him to the doorway of Grimmauld Place. Hermione had been able to kick him off, but left with the boys before Yaxley could get his bearing straight. Albus remembered the relief he felt when he saw them get away with the locket, but now they were on their own with nowhere else to go. Now that Yaxley knew how to get inside Grimmauld Place, they couldn't go back there.

That had been several weeks ago and ever since then they've been living out of a tent in the wilderness. Things, however, seemed to have gotten worse for them than ever before. During those weeks, Ron seem to be cracking under the strain. His arm had been badly splinched from the Ministry escape, and they were forced to treat him as best as they could, and as he was recovering, Hermione tearfully told them about Yaxley and how she couldn't shake him off until they got back to Grimmauld Place and that was why they couldn't go back. Though Yaxley didn't get to far in however since Alastor's protections were still active, and Yaxley was recovering back at St. Mungo's.

And Albus knew that they were also worried about Kreacher, but they needn't worry about him. That little elf may be getting on in years, but he was far from weak. As soon as Yaxley came bursting into the house, laughing at how stupid 'those kids' as he called them were, Kreacher had heard him and left, heading back to Hogwarts.

It was good to see Kreacher and Dobby getting along with each other much more than before—he was aware of how much they fought with each other the year before because of difference of opinion when it came to Harry. But he didn't really think about that when he watched the three of them struggling to get by. This just wasn't fair… he hated to think that a group of teenagers were forced to face such horrors so young. They should be at school with their other friends inside a safe castle… not hunting down the pieces to a madman's soul and avoid getting killed by Death Eaters.

It wasn't just Kreacher they were worried about however. They were also worried about the Cattermoles, wondering if they had been able to escape. Mary didn't know what was going on, but her desire to see her children again overwhelmed her, and she returned home to where they were waiting for her. She quickly told them that they were leaving and that they had to hurry, she would explain to them once they were gone.

They waited long enough for Reg to return before they fled to the countryside where they were going to stay with her mother, and none of them had the slightest idea to how it all happened. He chuckled at that, and relaxed in the knowledge that all the Muggle-borns managed to escape… though it had all been a very close call.

As for that very next morning after the escape, he watched as Harry took Alastor's eye and buried it out in the forest. Albus couldn't help but wonder if there was any reason why Harry picked the oldest, most gnarled, resilient-looking tree he could find to bury it. But he felt pride inside him at the gesture… it was a fitting place. And he was sure that Alastor would've understood the reason behind it and have been grateful for that act.

After that however, they had seemed to discover that Voldemort was after another object… and Albus had been watching over Tom as well… knowing full well what it was that he was searching for. He gritted his teeth as he thought back to the night he died and knew that his plan didn't work out just as he had hoped it would. He knew who the real Master of the Elder Wand was… and he didn't even realize it did he?

Of course, the trio still had no idea about the wand, and were trying to come up with other ideas as to what was going on. They thought that he was looking for another object to turn into a Horcrux, but Albus knew that Tom knew that he had pushed his own soul to the very limit—even he wouldn't try that again. Though when he looked at Harry, he knew that he was probably the only person who knew the full truth of the situation in front of him.

He knew that Tom was still trying hard to find a way around the problem of the twin cores, and he believed that the Elder Wand would make him invincible. So he was trying to retrace the last known steps that the wand took… and if he kept this up, Albus was fairly sure that he would learn where it was sooner or later.

But what he didn't like was how the trio were keeping the Horcrux so close without any way of destroying it. His uneasiness was proven when one night when Harry was forced to run from Dementors, unable to summon his Patronus no matter how hard he tried.

"But you can make a brilliant Patronus!" protested Ron, when Harry arrived back at the tent empty handed, out of breath, and mouthing the word Dementors, too exhausted to continue.

"I couldn't… make one," he panted, struggling for air, "Wouldn't… come…"

Now this showed just how seriously the Horcrux was effecting him. Harry had already proven he was capable of casting the charm because he had the locket. That must have been terrifying for him. He had seen how it had taken all Harry's willpower to move and leave. But all that Ron was concerned with was the fact that they didn't have any food.

"Shut up, Ron," snapped Hermione before she looked back to Harry and asked, "Harry, what happened? Why do you think you couldn't make your Patronus? You managed perfectly yesterday!"

"I don't know," was all Harry could say as Ron continued to grumble behind them—and it looked like both young men were going to start going at each other until Hermione figured out what the problem was and took the Horcrux back from him. As soon as he took it off, color flushed back into his face, and he seemed to breathe easier. They shouldn't be wearing that thing if it effects them so much… and he personally would've been happy if they didn't even touch it…

"Better?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, loads better!" Harry confessed, looking around like he had just been relieved of a heavy burden. That was when Hermione grew pale and crouched down in front of him and whispered, as if afraid that if she spoke to loudly then she could end up making it true, "Harry… you don't think you've been possessed, do you?"

Oh, Albus very much doubted that. They hadn't had the Horcrux long enough for that… and he doubted that any of them would become attached to it in any way.

"What? No!" he said defensively, "I remember everything we've done while I've been wearing it. I wouldn't know what I'd done if I'd been possessed, would I? Ginny told me there were times when she couldn't remember anything."

True, but possession is such a rare thing that it's impossible to know for sure what it was like. Yet, he agreed with what Harry said here in the unlikely event that he had been possessed.

"Hmm," said Hermione, looking down at the heavy locket. "Well, maybe we ought not to wear it. We can just keep it in the tent."

"We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around," Harry stated firmly. "If we lose it, if it gets stolen—"

That's a good point. But he still believed that it was a bad idea for any of them to keep it on them for too long. In the end, they decided that they were going to take turns wearing it so that none of them would have to be stuck with it for long. Though that was the only thing that they could come up with, Albus couldn't shake the terrible feeling about it… this was going to increase negative energy around them, and that was the last thing they needed.

From that moment onwards, the trio were forced to keep moving from place to place, never staying anywhere longer than a couple days. And oftentimes they were forced to forage for food—Harry bore up with it very well and he had a bad feeling that this was because of how he had been raised. But still, he never complained once.

Hermione was another one who bore up with the fact that they had no food reasonably well. Perhaps her temper was a little shorter than it would've been otherwise… but it was Ron who was the problem. Because he was so used to eating his fill at every meal thanks to his mother or at Hogwarts… he became very cranky and irritable… and Albus noticed that out of the three of them, the locket seemed to have more of a bad effect on him than the other two… making him almost cruel at time. If only Severus could get the sword to them, then they would have a way of finishing that thing off once and for all.

Harry and Hermione were quickly losing patience with Ron… who snapped at them over everything that they said. The one good thing that it was doing was that he was able to convince them to stop using Tom's name. He never once saw any fear in it, but he had quickly learned that the Death Eaters have the name tabooed so that they could easily be tracked if the name was ever said.

This really isn't going well. He would listen to their conversations as they tried to think of other places that the Horcruxes would be in, and soon they got to a point that they were just repeating themselves over and over until even Albus could guess just what they were going to say next. When they realized this, their tempers would raise, and they wouldn't talk to each other for several hours.

"I can't see him hiding anything at Borgin and Burkes," Harry would begin, "Borgin and Burke were experts at Dark objects, they would've recognized a Horcrux straightaway."

Well, that part he wasn't so sure of, but he did agree that the odds of Tom hiding something there was zero. Though he remembered going to that shop himself several times just to make sure. After all, Tom had been remarkably reckless when he handed out the diary, and it never hurt just to make sure… and it was thanks to that did he find out about poor Hepzibah Smith.

Harry threw Ron a nasty look when he saw him yawning, and Albus wouldn't have been surprised if Harry finally snapped and threw something at him. But he went on, determined not to look at him, "I still reckon he might have hidden something at Hogwarts."

Hermione sighed. "But Dumbledore would have found it, Harry!"

Oh, he highly doubted that. Even though he had been at Hogwarts for most of his life, he had never been able to discover all of Hogwart's secrets. He personally thought that there was a very good chance that there might be one there… though where, and how Tom could've placed a Horcrux there after he left school was a mystery…

But Harry was right, if there was one place that he was sure to hide one if given the choice, it would be Hogwarts.

"Dumbledore said in front of me that he never assumed he knew all of Hogwart's secrets. I'm telling you, if there was one place Vol—" Harry began, before Ron let out a yell and Harry shouted out, "YOU-KNOW-WHO, then! If there was one place that was really important to You-Know-Who, it was Hogwarts!"

"Oh, come on," scoffed Ron. "His school?"

Albus knew where Harry was coming from. He felt safe at Hogwarts himself… he returned there because he wanted to make sure that he would never again be tempted with the idea of power. Being there… in a place that he would always be welcomed meant more to him than anything. Ron and Hermione couldn't understand this because they both came from loving homes, but for some… its home. You don't realize where your home is until you miss it.

"Yeah, his school!" Harry said loudly, "It was his first real home, the place that meant he was special: it meant everything to him, and even after he left—"

"This is You-Know-Who we're talking about, right? Not you?" inquired Ron.

Now that was uncalled for. Harry seemed to exercising every bit of self control he had to keep himself from choking Ron. This wasn't good… they needed to keep their tempers in check. But he glanced at the Horcrux around Ron's neck and knew that was easier said than done. It's pushing the negative thoughts to the front, and the worst part was how close they were and how to push each other's buttons.

The fighting always ended with Hermione reminding them all that Tom couldn't have had enough time to hide Horcrux and they would be back to where they started.

When they finished fighting and returned to the cold shoulder treatments to each other, Albus would open his eyes and he would pace through the mist, trying to think of some way to help them, but lament the fact there was no longer anything he could do. They were on their own, and he just had to hope that they were able to pull through. He watched over them for weeks, watching how they traveled through the country like how he had done when he was searching for the Horcrux's himself.

They would then pass around the Horcrux every twelve hours or so, and they were all struggling to bear the weight. Harry's scar also kept bothering him at odd times during the day—but almost always when he had the Horcrux. Whenever he saw him wince, Ron would ask what he saw, and Harry always answered that he saw a face—the man who stole something from Gregorovitch.

And every time that he heard that name, he flinched at it. But he told himself that this was good… that Tom was obsessing over Grindelwald instead of Harry. Ron would then look away angrily, and he knew that he was hoping to hear news about his family or the Order. But Albus personally thought that he should be thankful that Harry couldn't give them any information. After all, that would mean that Tom was with them.

He reminded himself over countless times already that he set this all up for a reason, but it was hard to tell him that when he saw how angry and miserable they were. But finally, one evening, what he had feared the most had happened. Ron walked out on them. They had come across a small group of fugitives in the forest that they were in. A pair of goblins called Griphook and Gornuk, as well as—of all people—Ted Tonks and Dean Thomas.

While they were listening in, they heard some news of what was going on, including that the sword of Gryffindor up at the castle was a fake, and that Ginny, Neville, and Luna were punished for trying to take it. However, there wasn't anything to worry about… they were punished by being with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest.

He watched as the three brought their Extendable Ears back in, all of them looking terrified as Hermione lunged for her beaded bag and fought to pull out Phineas Nigellus's portrait—and Albus was suddenly grateful that they had moved it from Grimmauld Place. Hermione put the painting right up against the side of the tent, telling them that if the sword was taken, he'd have seen it.

"Unless he was asleep," said Harry.

Ah, but the portraits never sleep, they only like pretending that they do. Hermione was already having her wand pointing at the canvas, ready to cast a spell as she called, "Er—Phineas? Phineas Nigellus?"

As he expected, Phineas didn't bother coming and she tried again, a little more forcefully, "Phineas Nigellus? Professor Black? Please could we talk to you? Please?"

"'Please' always helps," Phineas's voice called snidely from the portrait, and as soon as he walked into view, Hermione made a black blindfold appear over his eyes, making him jump and shriek with pain. Albus couldn't help but laugh—wishing that he thought of doing that years ago.

"What—how dare—what are you—?" Phineas shrieked in outrage.

"I'm very sorry, Professor Black," said Hermione hurriedly, "but it's a necessary precaution!"

"Remove this foul addition at once!" he roared, "Remove it, I say! You are ruining a great work of art! Where am I? What is going on?"

Despite the situation, Albus couldn't help but laugh at the sight of it all. Really, he was glad to see that they were finally getting some information, as well as making things hard for Phineas.

"Never mind where we are," said Harry, and Phineas stopped moving at the sound of his voice.

"Can that possible be the voice of the elusive Mr. Potter?" he asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of his voice.

Yes, Albus knew that Severus would certainly be interested as Harry taunted Phineas slightly to keep his interest in sticking around. "We've got a couple of questions to ask you—about the sword of Gryffindor," Harry finished asking.

Phineas was trying to look in Harry's direction though he couldn't get so much as a glimpse of him. "Ah, yes. That silly girl acted most unwisely there—"

"Shut up about my sister," Ron barked, his temper so close to the boiling point these days, and Phineas raised his eyebrows as he demanded to know who else was there, telling them that they had been thieving.

Albus was suddenly wishing that Dexter or Dilys was here instead… at least they would be more helpful in this situation and not make it so difficult.

"They weren't thieving," Harry snapped angrily, "That sword isn't Snape's."

"It belongs to Professor Snape's school," Phineas retorted snidely, as if he was enjoying taunting them. "Exactly what claim did the Weasley girl have upon it? She deserved her punishment, as did the idiot Longbottom and the Lovegood oddity!"

Albus shook his head, having always wished that he wouldn't resort to petty insults. He had always wondered what made Phineas become a teacher if he didn't like children.

"Neville is not an idiot and Luna is not an oddity!" Hermione said angrily and Albus nodded along with her. But Phineas wasn't listening as he continued to try and get the blindfold off and asked where he was and why they removed him from the House of Black.

"I would've thought that you'd be glad for a change of scenery, Phineas," Albus chuckled to himself, but then again, with the blindfold on, he wasn't getting much of a view was he?

"Never mind that! How did Snape punish Ginny, Neville, and Luna?" asked Harry urgently, and Albus could almost feel the fear coming off him when he said Ginny's name.

"Professor Snape sent them into the Forbidden Forest, to do some work for the oaf, Hagrid," Phineas said with a rather smug smile. Albus felt his usual shred of anger when someone insulted Hagrid, and wanted to snap at him to be quiet… but the truth was, those three were safe with Hagrid. There was nothing for them to worry about…

"Hagrid's not an oaf!" said Hermione shrilly, and Albus nodded in full agreement at her words.

"And Snape might've though that was a punishment," said Harry, sounding a little better, "But Ginny, Neville, and Luna probably had a good laugh with Hagrid. The Forbidden Forest… they've faced plenty worse than the Forbidden Forest, big deal!"

At his words though, Ron's eyes narrowed as he glared at the back of Harry's head. Without another word, he slowly got up and went to lay in one of the lower bunks and Albus felt fear inside him at the sight of it. That expression couldn't mean anything good. However Harry and Hermione hadn't noticed any of this as they tried to press Phineas for more information about the sword, with Hermione even suggesting if it had been taken away for cleaning. Phineas sneered at them and explained how Goblin-made silver repels things such as dirt, only taking in what strengthens it.

Phineas finally had enough and staged to his feet as he tried to make his way back to his usual portrait.

"Dumbledore!" Harry cried out, and for one wild second, Albus thought that he was talking to him before Harry finished, "Can't you bring us Dumbledore?"

Shame suddenly went through him as he stepped back. "It doesn't work like that, Harry," he answered softly. "Though I wish it did…"

"I beg your pardon?" asked Phineas, stopping for a moment.

"Professor Dumbledore's portrait," Harry pressed on, "Couldn't you bring him along, here, into yours?"

"Evidently it is not only Muggle-borns who are ignorant, Potter," Phineas said as continued to feel around the edges of his portrait, looking for his way out. "The portraits of Hogwarts may commune with each other, but they cannot travel outside of the castle except to visit a painting of themselves elsewhere. Dumbledore cannot come here with me, and after the treatment I have received at your hands, I can assure you that I will not be making a return visit!"

Oh, Albus doubted that as he watched Phineas continue to search for the way out. He was sure that he was going to brag about this to everyone back at the office, and will most likely be sent out again until they were able to find out a way to get the sword to Harry.

"Professor Black," Hermione asked quickly as Phineas finally found the exit, "couldn't you just tell us, please, when was the last time the sword was taken out of its case? Before Ginny took it out, I mean?"

Phineas snorted impatiently and finally told them the truth… how he had seen Dumbledore use it to break open the ring. At long last they knew how to destroy the Horcruxes… but that also mean that it just added one more thing out there that they needed to find. Though Harry and Hermione weren't thinking about that at the moment. They were staring at each other in shock as Phineas continued to leave and Harry gave a sudden shout, "Wait! Have you told Snape you saw this?"

Of course he will… he's just barely able to hold back blurting it out right now. But rather than admit that, Phineas stuck his head back into view and snapped, "Professor Snape has more important things on his mind that the many eccentricities of Albus Dumbledore. Good-bye, Potter!"

Albus couldn't hold back the chuckle as Phineas vanished completely.

"Harry!" Hermione cried excitedly.

"I know!" Harry shouted as he punched the air and began to pace up and down as Hermione shoved Phineas's painting back into the bag—both of them had a renewed since of hope.

"The sword can destroy Horcruxes!" Hermione cried out, "Goblin-made blades imbibe only that which strengthens them—Harry, that sword's impregnated with basilisk venom!"

"And Dumbledore didn't give it to me because he still needed it, he wanted to use it on the locket—" Harry added.

"—and he must have realized they wouldn't let you have it if he put it in his will—" Hermione went on.

"—so he made a copy—" Harry interrupted.

"—and put a fake in the glass case—" she cried out.

"—and he left the real one—where?" Harry finished and they seemed to have lost a little of their excitement at that. So they were able to put all the pieces together… but he kept glancing back at Ron's angry expression, worry filling his chest. This wasn't good… he wished that he could warn them, but he knew that he had to count on them to make the right choices now and hope for the best. It was all that he could do.

"Think!" whispered Hermione to him, and he could see her racking her brains over a place where they could start looking. "Think! Where would he have left it?"

"Not at Hogwarts," Harry said at once as he paced the ground once more, but Albus shook his head, knowing that was exactly where it was, though there was no way they could possibly know that.

Hermione frowned as she suggested, "Somewhere in Hogsmeade?"

"The Shrieking Shack?" Harry offered. "Nobody ever goes in there."

That may be… and though he knew that he had been at death's door that entire year… he'd never have been careless enough to leave something like that lying around. Hermione realized that as well and reminded him that Severus knew how to get in and that would be rather risky.

"Dumbledore trusted Snape," Harry reminded her.

"Not enough to tell him that he had swapped the swords," said Hermione.

Now Albus didn't react to that, but he knew that was luckily untrue as well as Harry seemed to cheer at the fact and asked Ron what he thought before they finally realized that Ron wasn't there, and was instead lying in the shadow of a bunk, his face stony.

Albus felt sick at the heart at the sight of him. Ron was wearing the locket again… there was no way that this could end well.

"Oh, remembered me, have you?" Ron asked them all coldly as they looked at him.

"What?" Harry asked, confusion on his face as he looked at him, wonder what was wrong as Ron snorted and stared up the underside of the bed as he told them sarcastically to carry on and not to let him spoil their fun. Albus shook his head as Harry and Hermione looked at each other, the happiness on their faces fading at once.

"What's the problem?" asked Harry firmly.

"Problem? There's no problem," said Ron, still refusing to look at Harry as he heard the sounds of rain starting to fall outside. "Not according to you, anyways."

"Well, you've obviously got a problem," said Harry, and he was starting to sound angry again. "Spit it out, will you?"

Albus looked away, tempted to open his eyes and to just turn away from this, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Ron, meanwhile swung his legs off the bed and sat up—his expression dark and cold, not like himself at all.

"All right, I'll spit it out," Ron said, his voice rising dangerously, "Don't expect me to skip up and down the tent because there's some other damn thing we've got to find. Just add it to the list of stuff you don't know."

Albus flinched at those words as he stepped away from him, knowing that if there was anyone here that needs to be blamed… it was himself. The rain seemed to reflect on their mood, for the rain was falling harder and heavier outside as Harry's eyes narrowed as he asked, "I don't know? I don't know?"

"It's not like I'm not having the time of my life here," Ron snapped at them both, "you know, with my arm mangled and nothing to eat and freezing my backside off every night. I just hoped, you know, after we'd been running round a few weeks, we'd have achieved something."

But they had… didn't he see it? They had already found one Horcrux after a short time, and they now know how to destroy it. Not to mention it had taken himself almost a whole school year to find the same Horcrux they had already.

Hermione tried to talk to Ron, to calm him down, but Ron easily pretended that he didn't hear her as he continued to glare at Harry.

"I thought you knew what you'd signed up for," said Harry.

"Yeah, I thought I did too," Ron admitted and Albus was shaking his head, having known that it was always going to be the most difficult for Ron out of the three of them.

Harry's temper was rising now as he demanded, "So what part of it isn't living up to your expectations? Did you think we'd be staying in five-star hotels? Finding a Horcrux every other day? Did you think you'd be back to Mummy by Christmas?"

"We thought you knew what you were doing!" shouted Ron, finally jumping to his feet, "We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, we thought you had a real plan!"

Albus bowed his head. This was his fault, not Harrys. Though he couldn't truly know exactly how much more he could have helped by telling him everything, Albus understood more than anyone how difficult this task was. But Ron shouldn't blame Harry for this since he had volunteered to come along, and Harry had never said he had all the answers. If they wanted to be angry at someone, they should've made it him… not each other. But still, Ron couldn't have thought that it would be that easy that he could've given them a map and plan before his death? Yet as he looked to the locket around Ron's neck, he tried to remind himself again that this wasn't his fault…

Deep down, he knew that all of Ron's insecurities were reaching their absolute limit and the Horcrux was taking advantage of that.

Hermione called Ron's name more loudly this time, but again he ignored her as Harry said in a calm and cold voice, "Well, sorry to let you down, I've been straight with you from the start. I told you everything Dumbledore told me. And in the case you haven't noticed, we've found one Horcrux—"

"Yeah, and we're about as near getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them—nowhere effing near in other words," Ron yelled.

Hermione finally had enough as she stepped forward and said in a voice higher than usual, "Take off the locket, Ron. Please take it off. You wouldn't be talking like this if you hadn't been wearing it all day."

Yes, the locket was intensifying Ron's anger, but it wasn't just the locket saying those words. It was Ron himself… his fears, his resentments… those feelings had always been there. The locket was only bringing them to the front of his mind and amplified them to an uncontrollable rate.

"Yeah, he would," said Harry, cutting right to the core of the problem, "D'you think I haven't noticed the two of you whispering behind my back? D'you think I didn't guess you were thinking this stuff?

Hermione looked terrified and tried to say that she had done no such thing, but this time it was Ron who barked at her not to lie. That she had said more than once that she was disappointed and that she had thought they had more to go on. Harry flinched a little and Hermione cried out, "I didn't say it like that—Harry, I didn't!"

Hermione started to cry and the rain was pounding on the outside, with Albus wishing fruitlessly that there was something that he could do to reason with them, just to let them know what an accomplishment they had done so far. This journey was never going to be easy… but they were making steps… and that there were people out there who had it so much worse than what they had.

But at last, Harry asked coldly, "So why are you still here?"

No… he didn't like the things that Ron said any more than they did, but he knew what it was like to fight with someone you were so close to. Ron was close to walking out, all it was going to take one more thing to push him over the edge.

"Search me," Ron said indifferently.

"Go home then," said Harry, his eyes full of anger, but also of hurt.

"Yeah, maybe I will!" shouted Ron, actually walking forward to Harry as if he was fighting every ounce of his being to stop himself from hitting him. But Harry stood his ground as Ron yelled, "Didn't you hear what they said about my sister? But you don't give a rat's fart, do you, it's only the Forbidden Forest, Harry I've-Faced-Worse Potter doesn't care what happened to her in there—well, I do, all right, giant spiders and mental stuff—"

But she was perfectly safe with Hagrid, Ron should've reminded himself of that. He had checked for himself and the three of them actually had a party the whole night.

"I was only saying—she was with the others," Harry said, looking hurt that Ron would suggest that he didn't care about what happened to Ginny. "They were with Hagrid—"

"Yeah, I get it, you don't care!" Ron bellowed out, "And what about the rest of my family, 'the Weasleys don't need another kid injured,' did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I—" Harry began, before Ron yelled, "Not bothered what it meant, though?"

Hermione stepped between them, forcing herself to be heard as she told them that it didn't necessarily mean that anything new could've happened. She reminded him about how Bill was already scarred, George had lost his ear, and now Ron was supposed to be on his deathbed with spattergroit. That was most likely all that they had meant and Albus nodded as he had also kept a close eye on all of them. None of them had anything happen to them… they were all under a great deal of stress but nothing else had happened to any of them.

"Oh, you're sure, are you?" Ron practically yelled, "Right then, well, I won't bother myself about them. It's all right for you, isn't it, with your parents safely out of the way—"

Albus closed his eyes, knowing that Ron had finally gone too far, and wasn't the least bit surprised when Harry bellowed out, "My parents are dead!"

"And mine could be going the same way!" Ron bellowed at them.

And at long last, Harry lost his temper completely. "Then GO!" he roared out at the top of his lungs, "Go back to them, pretend you've got over your spattergroit and Mummy'll be able to feed you up and—"

For one moment, it looked as if the two boys would start dueling with the other and Hermione was forced to stop it by creating an invisible shield expanded between her and Harry on one side, with Ron stuck on the other. Harry and Ron glared at each other fiercely, as if they had never seen each other for the first time and Harry snapped at him to leave the Horcrux.

Ron did so only too happily, he wrenched the chain from off his neck and threw it into one of the nearby chairs before he turned to Hermione and demanded, "What are you doing?"

And here was yet another contributing factor in this… jealously…

"What do you mean?" she asked nervously.

"Are you staying, or what?" he asked and Albus couldn't help but feel his heart constrict. He shouldn't force her to choose like this.

Hermione looked tormented as she looked between them, clearly not understanding what was going on before she finally whispered out, "I… Yes—yes, I'm staying. Ron, we said we'd go with Harry, we said we'd help—"

Ron glared at her as if he had been the one betrayed. "I get it," he said, his voice cold, "You choose him."

Choose him? It had nothing to do with Ron… she was sticking with him because they were friends and she wanted to help him. This had nothing to do with romance at all. He had once suspected the same thing that there was something between them, but he soon realized that this wasn't like that at all. Their relationship was like a brother and sister… he's very protective of her, and she's very protective of him…

If there was anybody that she loved, it was that same person who was walking out on them.

Ron had turned and run away, as if determined never to look back, even as she screamed at him to stop. She had been thrown back by her own Shield Charm, and by the time she was able to remove it, he had already disappeared into the night, disappearing into the darkness as Hermione tearfully chased after him.

Albus opened his eyes and stared at the mist in front of him at the copy of his office. This is bigger than any one person… many people have it worse than he does, but at the same time, he couldn't be angry with Ronald.

He knew that Ron will want to come back as soon as he's calmed down and thought it over. But when he checked on Ron, it was too late. He kept an eye on him, hoping that he would be able to get back right away… he knew that he loved them both, and just wasn't thinking straight. He could see from the look on Ron's face once he had calmed down… a look of complete shock came over him and he was breathing hard, as if he fighting the urge to be sick.

He stared around him, trying to figure out where he was and why he was here. He walked on for just a few minutes, and seemed to be muttering curses to himself… but he was so lost in thought he didn't even notice how he walked right into a group of men. Albus knew them to be Snatchers, bounty hunters trying to round up any Muggle-borns and Ron couldn't have walked into a worse group. They noticed him there as he looked hurriedly around for a place to hide, but they blocked him off.

As they circled him, they had grabbed him by the hair and had him in a tight choke hold as another restrained him, the third snatching up his wand.

The leader was easily the biggest and meanest of the bunch as they dragged him off to a nearby alley.

"Ooh, look what we got here!" the leader smirked excitedly, looking at Ron like he was his meal ticket.

"Yeah, this one looks to be about 'Ogwarts age, what do you reckon?" the one who had Ron in a headlock asked.

"Now, hang on. Let's at least give the boy a chance to explain himself first," the leader sneered, "If he can't do that, then we'll just hand him over without any problems. Right?"

As they all began to laugh and jeer at him, nodding their heads like excited dogs, the leader punched Ron in the gut and demanded, "Who the hell are ye?"

"Answer 'im, ginger if you don't want to make him angry," they laughed.

Albus looked to Ron, knowing that he was clever… he could think of a way out of this mess. But he had to be careful. These guys weren't smart, but they were violent and weren't afraid to use it.

"So, I'll ask again, ginger," the leader said darkly, "See… we aren't bad blokes. Just trying to make a living. We're rounding up all the Mudbloods and Blood Traitors we can find, see? We then drag them off to the Ministry for… questioning. We won't hurt you anymore than we have ta… just tell us who you are."

Ron gulped, but seemed to be finding some kind of inner fire in him as he finally said the first name that came to his mind, "Stan Shunpike!"

The four of them looked at each other in confusion, trying to figure out where they heard that name before.

"Stan?" one of the repeated, the one with Ron's wand. "Stan Shunpike? Sounds familiar…"

"Arr, don't tell me ya actually believe him!" the one restraining Ron's arms demanded.

"I never said I did!" he retorted, "I don't know alright! Have any of you heard of 'im?"

This was good… they were distracted. Albus looked back to see Ron's face and he seemed to be trying hard not to panic as he looked around him. As long as he stayed calm, he could get out of this. He didn't dare say anything for some time as he let the four of them argue the case. They went on for a couple hours, half of them seeming close to believe the name, while the other two didn't seem to care and wanted to turn him over to the Ministry right away and get paid.

"Look!" the leader yelled, finally getting tired of holding Ron's head and let the other hold onto Ron's arms as he got right up in the other two's faces. "He's clearly a Mudblood on the run ain't he? I say that we just hand him over! Even if he's not one of 'em, we'll still earn some gold for it."

"Yeah? And what if he's proven not to be, eh?" the one with Ron's wand yelled back, "We won't be getting none of them gold if he's not a Mudblood!"

By this point, the only one still holding Ron was shaking a hand at them, and that was when Ron decided to use that to his advantage. Since he was holding Ron with just one arm, he was able to twist around and gave him a good punch right in the nose before he dove at the one with his wand. The others had been so absorbed into their argument that they didn't realize what was going on until Ron wrestled his wand and ran for it. By the time that they made a mad grab for him, Ron turned on the spot and disapparated.

Sighing in relief, Albus followed after Ron, knowing where he wanted to be more than anywhere else. But he messed up the disapparating, landing several miles away from the piece of riverbank that Harry and Hermione were. Yet the worst that happened to him were the two lost fingernails, showing that he was getting better.

He ignored the slight splinching and went running down the river, not able to remember just where the spot was. He walked along for hours, trying to find some trace of the camp, but their protections were just too strong and knew that Ron wouldn't have a hope of finding them. He had been held hostage by those Snatchers for most of the night, and the sun was just starting to creep into the sky. But by the time he finally found the place, he was too late.

Albus knew that Harry and Hermione waited for him to come back as long as possible. They were holding onto the hope that he would come back, and he wished that he could tell them to wait just a little longer. Hermione looked as if she had been crying, and were dawdling when it came time to pack—as if hoping that he would suddenly appear.

At the sight of them separated like this, it made him wish that he left more information with Harry. But he hoped that they could one day understand why he did it… to purposely try to slow them down. The two lingered for a good extra hour before they had repacked the beaded bag at least three times and removed the protective charms around them. At long last, they no longer saw any reason to stay and he watched them Disapparate to a windswept heather-covered hill before Hermione broke down sobbing.

All of their thoughts and actions are understandable. The three of them have an extremely close bond. Even the most irrational action are regrettable. It was like just one of them wasn't complete without the other two.

Harry looked like he wanted to comfort her, but he appeared to have nothing to say as he cast the spells to protect them. He couldn't stand the trio separation, but he was glad that Harry and Hermione were protected.

If only they had waited for another half an hour though… for it was then that Ron finally found his way back, but saw that they were gone. He searched all over desperately, trying to find some trace of a tent or footprint. But after looking around for at least an hour, he came to the hard conclusion that they were no longer here. When he realized that, he threw his arms up into the air and cried out in frustration as he fell to his knees.

Albus felt his heart go out to him as he knelt there… moaning out his friend's names, but lost as to what he should do. Yet Albus wanted him to get back to his feet and leave this place. He couldn't stay here… the longer that he was here, the more likely he would be found, and he might not be as lucky as he was with those Snatchers this time. At long last, looking like a broken puppet, Ron got to his feet and disapparated away from the river and went to the one person that he thought could help him.

He had gone to Shell Cottage where his brother and new wife were spending their first Christmas. Albus let out a sad sigh as he opened his eyes and stared miserably at the mist that was hovering around them.

At least he knew that Ron was safe for the moment. He had always known that he was going to have a harder time than the other two when it came to this journey, and he had been secretly afraid that something like this would happen. So he had left Ron a way to come back… but only if all three of them wanted him to.

He spent a lot of time working on the Deluminator to act as a kind of… homing device. Whenever Hermione or Harry mention Ron's name, he'll be able to hear that even if they are far away. It will also act as a guild, leading Ron back to them. How this works was something he spent a great deal of time perfecting. But basically it creates a kind of light that will enter his chest, near his heart and allow him to disapparate to where the two of them are. In a sense, Ron himself becomes a kind of Portkey.

He had come up with this idea by remembering the epitaph that was on his mother and sister's grave. Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also… a way back to the ones that your treasure the most.

He had come to hope that Harry and Hermione would talk about Ron at least once, but because of the level of how hurt and angry they were at him, they were refusing to say his name at all. Harry seemed intent to never use Ron's name again, and Hermione looked to be just fine at that idea, except at night when she would cry herself to sleep.

From that moment on, Harry would pull out the map that he had heard about and he would watch it in great fascination that there was such a map all this time. It showed every room and where everyone was, and Albus was wondering if he was expecting Ron's name to appear there. But he wouldn't go back. Everyone knows how close he was to Harry—they would take him to the Ministry for interrogation as soon as he appeared. Not to mention that it would put his family in danger if he suddenly recovered from spattergroit, an incurable disease.

As for Ron, after he explained to Bill and Fleur why he left, how sick he was with himself for doing so, he seemed to be living in a kind of daze. Neither Bill nor Fleur said anything to him about it, but he could tell that they were both deeply disappointed in him. Yet, they let him stay, despite the fact that he seemed to be as lost as Harry and Hermione where without him there.

At times, he knew Harry would become furious with him—not Ron, but Albus… he would hear him cursing his name whenever he was alone, but he didn't fault him at all for that. It's only fair that there would be a deal of resentment and anger on his part. Albus could also see that he was keeping an eye on Hermione as well, as if fearful that she would leave as well. He hoped that Harry wouldn't continue to think like that. This is no simple task and for what he has accomplished so far is amazing. And Hermione was still there… the Order was fight… as well as Dumbledore's Army.

Speaking of which, he had been watching over his school and it felt like a knife in the heart to see just how terrible things had gotten. Some of the students were rebelling against their new oppressors and were being strictly punished for it. Ginny, Neville, and Luna were doing their best to continue on with Dumbledore's Army and he could see that Ginny was constantly thinking of Harry as much as Harry was thinking of her.

Those two devoted themselves to trying to think of possible locations that the real sword of Gryffindor could be. But each theory they came up with was as desperate and as far-fetched as the next one. Albus knew that they needed the sword if they were going to finish this quest, and he entrusted it to Severus… but how was he going to get it to them now?

As for Severus, he wasn't having any easier a time. The other teachers, aside from the Carrows, were looking at him with barely-disguised anger and disgust—but it wasn't with him that they had a problem with. Alecto Carrow replaced Charity Burbage as Professor of Muggle Studies, and her brother Amycus was now the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Severus had just made it back to his old office, looked as worn-out as Albus felt. He was just making it back to the deck when Phineas came running back into his portrait, the blindfold still on, and banged his head against the side of his frame.

"Headmaster!" he yelled, "I've just heard from Potter and his little friends!"

Severus was startled at that, and the other portraits stopped laughing at Phineas long enough to register what he said.

"What?" Severus demanded, going straight over to his portrait, "You know where they are?"

"Why this is wonderful news!" Albus's own portrait cried out joyfully. "How are they?"

"I don't know!" Phineas snapped at him, still trying to take the blindfold off. "They covered my eyes and I couldn't see a damn thing! But they sure had the gull to ask me a lot of questions! The nerve of them…!"

Albus rolled his eyes at that as Severus pulled out his wand and removed the blindfold. "What happened?" he demanded. "I know that those brats had compromised Grimmauld Place and have been on the run ever since."

Phineas felt his face and eyes as if making sure that he was just like how he was before he answered, "That Granger girl is carrying around my portrait from the house of my forefathers in her bag! The outrage I have, you wouldn't believe…?"

"Just get to the point!" Dilys yelled from her spot on the wall.

"If you must know, she pulled out my portrait and summoned me," he went on snidely. "They put the stupid blindfold on me, thus ruining a work of art if you ask me, and then demanded to know what happened to the sword and those three brats who tried to take it."

"How'd they find out?" Severus asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Hell if I know," he said coldly, "But they know now that the sword at Gringotts is a fake and are on the lookout for the real one."

"But they cannot take the sword and use it properly unless under acts of courage and selflessness," Albus's portrait self piped up. "Severus…?"

"I know…" he grumbled at him. "I have to get the sword to them somehow. But without knowing exactly where they are, there's not much I can do." He looked back to Phineas and asked, "Did you hear them mention a place?"

"No," Phineas said coldly, "I told you that I couldn't see anything!"

"I think that we should add a mask or something else so that we can't see your face," Dilys added.

"Or something to keep his mouth shut!" Dexter piped up hopefully.

"What?!" Phineas yelled, "Why I've never been more insulted in all my life!"

"Shut up!" Severus barked and both Albus's nodded tiredly at that. "Phineas, keep in touch with them. Sooner or later, they'll slip up and we'll find out where they are."

"Do I have to?" Phineas whined out, "They are almost as unbearable as the rest of you!" he added the last four words loudly to the other portraits before he said, "They are most unpleasant company."

"I don't care," Severus scowled at him. "You are to go to them if they call you and listen in for any clues that could help us. But most of all, to find out where they are hiding out. But don't act to eager… but subtle and cautious. As dense as Potter is, he's not completely hopeless…"

"Why, Severus… that's got to be the nicest thing you've ever said about Harry," portrait Albus spoke up cheerfully.

"Don't get me wrong," Severus said coldly to him, "I still think that he's hopeless and arrogant… but they've lasted this long. I still don't get why you wanted them to having the blasted sword in the first place. It's more trouble than it's worth."

"Maybe…" Albus said as he opened his eyes. "But it's the only chance they have to finish this war once and for all."

Their side was making progress, but Voldemort was quickly gaining control everywhere. Every week that went by there were more deaths, more disappearances, and kidnappings. People were being thrown into Azkaban for the littlest of things while Muggles are being hunted down for sport. There's panic and fear everywhere… all he could do was stay and comfort all the poor people who had come to join him in his astral plane. He comforted them with kind words about their deaths, and gave them hope for their family and friends left behind… but he still believed in all who were fighting against Voldemort. He was sure that they could finish this, and he just had to wait until that joyful moment when this war ended.

It had already been about four months since the wedding, and three of those months the trio spent in a tent… and two without Ron by their side. They seemed to be running themselves ragged with the feeble hope of figuring out where the sword was. But one night, Harry came to Hermione with a question… Albus knew that it was important because Harry let them take the locket off for a while and waited until she had a full stomach before he approached her nervously.

"Hermione, I've been thinking, and –" Harry began, but Hermione interrupted him as if she hadn't even heard him.

"Harry, could you help me with something?" she asked as she pulled out the Tales of Beedle the Bard. "Look at the symbol," she said and Albus felt his eyes twinkle. At last, Hermione was starting to figure out the clue that he wanted her to discover. However, he was filled with fear at the thought of what this will lead onto…

"I never took Ancient Runes, Hermione," Harry said as he walked over and looked over it.

"I know that; but it isn't a rune and it's not in the syllabary, either," she told him, "All along I thought it was a picture of an eye, but I don't think it is! It's been inked in, look, somebody's drawn it there, it isn't really part of the book. Think, have you ever seen it before?"

"No…" he said before he blinked and looked closer. "No, wait a moment. Isn't it the same symbol Luna's dad was wearing round his neck?"

Yes, that was good… they were on just the right track.

"Well, that's what I thought too!" Hermione said.

"Then it's Grindelwald's mark," Harry informed her and she stared at him, her mouth falling open. Albus grimaced a little at the mention of Grindelwald.

"Krum told me…" Harry informed her, and he quickly told her about how he spoke with Viktor Krum when they crossed paths at the wedding and Hermione looked astonished.

"Grindelwald's mark?" she asked again as she looked from him to the book and back again, as if she just couldn't believe it. "I've never heard that Grindelwald had a mark," she said, wracking her brains. "There's no mention of it in anything I've ever read about him."

"Well, like I say, Krum reckoned that symbol was carved on a wall at Durmstrang, and Grindelwald put it there," Harry informed her as she leaned back and was frowning slightly.

Yes, he supposed that Grindelwald did have a great obsession with it. Almost as much as he did when he was young.

"That's very odd. If it's a symbol of Dark Magic, what's it doing in a book of children's stories?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, it is weird," said Harry, also thinking about it. "And you'd think Scrimgeour would have recognized it. He was Minister, he ought to have been expert on Dark stuff."

Maybe not the best Minister, but he was certainly a great Auror in his time, but then again, that mark isn't an evil one… just one of great temptation.

"I know…" Hermione whispered, looking at the marking again as she talked to herself, "Perhaps he thought it was an eye, just like I did. All the other stories have little pictures over the titles."

As Hermione went on with thinking it all over, Harry looked nervous again. He then said, "Hermione…?"

"Hmm?" she asked, still frowning at the book, and Harry finally told her what it was that he wanted.

"I've been thinking," he told her, "I – I want to go to Godric's Hollow."

Albus inhaled sharply, his throat feeling dry and his insides seemed to freeze. He should've guessed that was what it was about. Though a part of him knew that Harry deserved to go there and see the place with his own eyes, he knew that it just wasn't safe for him now. Tom was watching that place very closely, having a good idea that Harry might go back there… and so he set his snake Nagini there to keep a watch on everything.

Hermione looked up. "Yes," she said thoughtfully. "Yes, I've been wondering that too. I really think we'll have to."

"Did you hear me right?" Harry asked, startled at what he heard. Albus would've laughed if he hadn't felt so miserable. Harry was braced for a lot of resistance on this…

"Of course I did," she said. "You want to go to Godric's Hollow. I agree. I think we should. I mean, I can't think of anywhere else it could be either. It'll be dangerous, but the more I think about it, the more likely it seems it's there."

Albus shook his head. That was far too obvious to hide the sword—the obvious is not always the truth. Harry seemed confused and asked what she was talking about and Hermione told him that Dumbledore knew that he'd want to go back there and that Godric Gryffindor was born there… which Harry seemed surprised.

Albus shook his head fondly. Has Harry ever read A History of Magic?

"Harry, did you ever even open A History of Magic?" Hermione asked exasperatedly, unknowingly voicing what Albus had been thinking.

"Erm," he said, and his face seemed to be working very hard as he smiled. "I might've opened it, you know, when I bought it… just the once…"

Hermione rolled her eyes and began to tell him all about Godric's Hallow before she remembered that Bathilda Bagshot wrote _A History of Magic_. She pulled out their old textbook copy of said book and she began to read out facts and figures from it.

"You and your parents aren't mentioned," she finished as she closed the book, a new excitement in her eyes. "Because Professor Bagshot doesn't cover anything later than the end of the nineteenth century. But you see? Godric's Hollow, Godric Gryffindor, Gryffindor's sword; don't you think Dumbledore would have expected you to make the connection?"

When said like that, Albus had to admit that it did sound logical to him, but because of the connections to Harry's past—as well as his own—he didn't want Harry anywhere near Godric's Hallow. But these two must've been desperate to find something to do as Harry did end up agreeing. But he had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't the sword on Harry's mind.

"Remember what Muriel said?" he asked eventually and Albus seemed to shrink back.

"Who?" Hermione asked distractedly.

"You know," Harry said before he hesitated for a moment and said, "Ginny's great-aunt. At the wedding. The one who said you had skinny ankles."

"Oh," said Hermione stiffly and Albus knew that they were sensing Ron's name almost spoken before Harry went on to say that Bathilda Bagshot was living in Godric's Hollow.

_Was_ living there… Albus knew that she had been dead for months. And the kind of dark magic that had been placed onto Bathilda's body was something that he couldn't let them see. But what could be done? Once again, he cursed his own helplessness.

"Bathilda Bagshot," murmured Hermione, running her index finger over Bathilda's embossed name on the front cover of A History of Magic. "Well, I suppose –" and then she gasped out in such a way that Harry turned to the entrance, thinking that there was someone there. He had also reacted much the same way, tensing up and holding his breath—thinking that they were under attack. Harry turned to her and snapped at her for that, before Hermione came up with the theory that the sword was with Bathilda.

He shook his head. No… even if she was still alive, Bathilda was nowhere near the right state of mind. It wasn't safe with her… that would've left a great deal to chance. At this point both so desperate to move forward they were now simply grasping at straws. Which is understandable. Knowing how important what they're doing is and feeling as if you haven't been able to do much is really difficult.

"Yeah, he might have done!" Harry asked eagerly, "So, are we going to go to Godric's Hollow?"

"Yes, but we'll have to think it through carefully, Harry," she said, her spirits rising greatly now that they might be having a plan again. She began to list of things such as Disillusionment Charms, Polyjuice Potion, practicing Disapparating together under the Invisibility Cloak…

They couldn't be too careful now… he didn't agree with them going to that place… but he could see that Harry seemed to be lost in thoughts and he knew what it was about. Perhaps, if nothing else, it would be a moral boost…

Later that night, when Harry was standing guard, he pulled out the photo album that Hagrid had given him back in his first year… which seemed to have happened a lifetime ago. And he watched him stared long and hard at the pictures, his eyes blank… his mind a million miles away. Albus drew back before he opened his eyes and stared off at the mist for a long time.

What would have happened if James and Lily had lived, he wondered? He wished that he could go back and prevent their deaths from happening. He remembered how James and Lily had always talked about having more children after the war… he smiled to himself as he remembered how James wanted to have enough kids to start his own Quidditch Team… but he knew that he would never know for sure… none of them would.

But his heart felt like it was being constricted painfully at the thought and he felt a tear fall from his eyes.

…

Over the next few days, he watched how they carefully planned out what they were going to do. They obtained hairs from a couple Muggles who were doing their shopping, practiced Apparating and Disapparating while under the Cloak, and then they finally felt ready. But they were cautious, since they were sure that Voldemort was expecting Harry to return to Godric's Hallow sooner or later.

But Harry was looking upset by that as well—and Albus was sure that Harry didn't want to return as someone else. But there was nothing that could be done about that… though he hoped that one day Harry would be able to return to this place after this war was over. On Christmas Eve, the two swallowed the Polyjuice Potion so that they looked like an innocent, middle-aged Muggle couple, packed all their belongings into the beaded bag, and lowered the Invisibility Cloak over their heads.

Soon they were all standing in a snowy lane under a dark blue sky, in which the night's first stars were already glimmering feebly. Cottages stood on either side of the narrow road, Christmas decorations twinkling in their windows. A short way ahead of them, a glow of golden streetlights indicated the center of the village.

Albus sighed, remembering his time here when he was younger… how he had used to dread returning home during the holidays and the summer when he was a child. How he missed them now, and continued to long to move on and join his family at long last. No… he waited this long to see them, and he was sure that he could wait a little longer.

"All this snow!" he heard Hermione whisper beneath the cloak. "Why didn't we think of snow? After all our precautions, we'll leave prints! We'll just have to get rid of them – you go in front, I'll do it –"

"Let's take off the Cloak," Harry's voice said, "Oh, come on, we don't look like us and there's no one around."

Yes, but there was always a chance that they could be recognized.

Still, Harry took the Cloak off and tucked it into his jacket as they made their way through the village, looking around, wondering just where to go. Then the little lane along which they were walking curved to the left and the heart of the village, a small square, was revealed to them. Strung all around with colored lights, there was what looked like a war memorial in the middle, partly obscured by a windblown Christmas tree. There were several shops, a post office, a pub, and a little church whose stained-glass windows were glowing jewel-bright across the square.

Villagers were crisscrossing in front of them, their figures briefly illuminated by streetlamps. They heard a snatch of laughter and pop music as the pub door opened and closed; then they heard a carol start up inside the little church.

"Harry, I think it's Christmas Eve!" said Hermione in great surprise.

What a way to celebrate the holiday… though it doesn't make much of a difference for these two… they couldn't have celebrated even if they had known it was Christmas Eve.

"Is it?" Harry asked, and he had clearly been losing track of the days as well.

"I'm sure it is," said Hermione, her eyes upon the church. "They… they'll be in there, won't they? Your mum and dad? I can see the graveyard behind it."

Though he couldn't feel the snow, Albus felt cold inside. Harry stopped at her words, fear in his face, but Hermione seemed to understand. She gave him a gentle look as she reached out and took his hand, leading him forward.

But as they walked on, they spotted something that he had been sure would get their attention. The old war memorial had been enchanted so that whenever a witch or wizard got close enough they would be able to see it transform. Instead of an obelisk covered in names, there was a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms. As soon as they realized what it was, Harry came walking up to it and stared up at his parent's face, his eyes glazed over as he seemed lost in his own little world.

Hermione didn't say anything as she let him stay there for as long as he wanted before he seemed to have enough. He watched as the two of them turned, and left the statue, though Harry took one last glance at it from over his shoulder as they went closer to the church. They spotted the kissing gate to the entrance to the graveyard, and Hermione pushed it open, staring at the rows and rows of tombstones in front of them.

Harry's hand was deep in his pocket, clearly holding onto his wand as he moved to the grave closest to them.

"Look at this, it's an Abbott, could be some long-lost relation of Hannah's!" he said dangerously loud.

Hermione gave him a stern look as she begged, "Keep your voice down."

Albus couldn't help but agree. It would've been for the best if they were still under the Invisibility Cloak, but it couldn't be helped. He sat back and watched as they walked into the graveyard, looking at the graves one-by-one… Albus looked away though, he knew that it was only going to be a matter of time before they found the graves… and not just Lily and James's… and he was right.

For only a short time later, Hermione was calling for Harry to come over and Albus couldn't stand looking any longer for he knew whose graves that Hermione had stopped by.

Harry was coming back towards her, looking anxious as he asked, "Is it – ?"

"No," she said as she pointed to the dark stone, "But look!"

And when Harry looked down at it, he knew that he could clearly read the dates of birth on it.

Kendra Dumbledore and her daughter Ariana.

_Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also._

That had been the hard lesson he learned the day that he lost Ariana. That you don't understand just what your treasure was… until you lose it. More tears fell down his cheek, aching to go on already to see them all… but he couldn't yet. He forced himself to stay here and see this through. Treasure those you care about most with all your heart was what he was always trying to remind himself.

As he watched Harry crouch down so that he could read the names, he couldn't help but feel a strange connection. Not for the first time, he saw so much of himself in this young man that sometimes it terrified him. It was for that reason that he made it so difficult for them… he didn't want Harry to make the same mistakes that he had… he wanted him to know but not to seek…

He wondered what would've happened if he had told Harry the whole truth. But he just couldn't bring himself to say it, his past had always been a sore spot for him and it was difficult to share that with anyone… especially with Harry. But he would've like that…

"Are you sure he never mentioned – ?" Hermione began timidly.

"No," said Harry briskly, standing back up, and walked away as he told them to keep looking. He knew that cold sound, as if Harry didn't care, but he had a strong feeling that he did care a lot about this. He sounded more hurt than anything else out there. Albus could see it… guilt, regret, betrayal, sorrow all mixed together in that pain shining in his eyes.

Albus knew that he had caused that pain, or, at very least, had allowed that pain to be caused. Never more had he felt like a monster than he did at that moment.

But as the waves of guilt threatened to over-power him, Hermione had just called out again, before she added, "Oh no, sorry! I thought it said Potter."

Harry, who had started to come over, stopped, and continued searching on his own as Hermione was rubbing at the mossy grave with a frown. "Harry, come back a moment," she called.

Now looking grumpy, Harry came forward, asking what it was this time. He looked at the grave that Hermione had pointed out, and Albus could see that this was Ignotus's grave… Harry's ancestor, though he doesn't know it. Hermione pointed to the symbol beneath it. "Harry, that's the mark in the book!"

He let out a quiet sigh. He wasn't sure that he wanted them to see this clue necessarily-it being so close to something that Harry treasures, but he was glad that they had stumbled upon it anyhow. Harry peered at the place she indicated: The stone was so worn that it was hard to make out what was engraved there, though there did seem to be a triangular mark beneath the nearly illegible name.

"Yeah… it could be…" he said a little absent-mindedly as Hermione lit her wand and read out the name. But then he told her stiffly that he was going to keep look for his parents and went off without another word. He walked up and down the seemingly endless rows, searching for his parent's names… even as it continued to grow darker around them and the carolers had finished their songs and the church lights had been told off.

At long last, Hermione's voice called, "Harry, they're here… right here."

Albus gave a sad sigh, knowing that she had found the right grave this time. He knew that Harry wanted to see this place for a long time, but he wasn't sure if he was ready for it so suddenly. Harry seemed to suddenly wonder this as well as he moved towards her… walking slowly, as if there was something heavy strapped to his legs that kept him from moving easily.

Lily and James's graves were two rows behind his mother and sister, and at long last, Harry was standing right in front of it.

JAMES POTTER, LILY POTTER

BORN 27 MARCH 1960, BORN 30 JANUARY 1960

DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981, DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981

_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

They were both so young… just barely into their twenties, and they had lost so much… taken away from them. But more than anything else, it pained him to see how much their son had to go through all on his own.

"_'The last enemy that shall be defeated is death'_…" Harry read out, looking up in horror at Hermione. "Isn't that a Death Eater idea? Why is that there?"

No… just that death is the next great adventure.

"It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry," said Hermione, her voice gentle as she looked at him, seeing how hard this must be. "It means… you know… living beyond death. Living after death."

But Harry just looked at his parent's names, and tears were falling from his eyes—possibly one of the only few times that he could remember seeing Harry cry… at least so openly. As if he didn't care who was watching anymore.

He didn't blame him in the slightest. Harry didn't' even have any memories, at least not any good memories, of his parents. And this was the closest that he would ever get again to being with them… though he knew that wasn't true.

Harry was doing his best to do what Albus had asked him, but the hardest part for him wasn't the danger or the mystery here. Even Albus could see that as he watched those tears of longing, that there was a part of him that wished that he could be with them. He shouldn't think like that.

Albus knew better than anyone how difficult it was to believe that those we love still love us even when they were gone. Because they weren't here to say the words that they loved them, to explain why they did the things that they did, and it's easy to believe that they are simply gone, past caring or loving anyone. But Albus also knew that Lily and James could see him… and that they've been watching over their son all this time. Harry has long since earned these tears. All heroes cry… not because they are weak, but because they've been strong for too long.

Hermione seemed to understand, for she took his hand and gave him a kind of silent comfort for him. She even conquered up a wreath of Christmas roses and Harry gave her a grateful look as he set the wreath on the grave. Once he stood there for as long as he could stand, he silently put his arm around Hermione's shoulders, and she put hers around his waist as they walked away from the grave and out of the cemetery without a look back.

Albus only wished that Ron could be there and to lend his support and comfort to him as well… it just made their falling out all the more tragic. But Ron never stopped caring about him… he had been watching over Ronald as well and he was keeping an eye and ear out for any trace of them—searching for a way back.

**(Another chapter done. We're reaching the end of the story at long last. I'm thinking six or seven more chapters should do it. Anyway, next up will be the attack at Godric's Hallow as well as Ron returning… perhaps we can even reach the story of the Deathly Hallows. Until then, hope you enjoy this chapter.)**


	66. Shadows of the Past

**Chapter 66: Shadows of the Past**

Albus's heart felt heavy and miserable as he watched the two start to head out towards the gates. He could only imagine just what a painful experience this had to have been for Harry. To think that it took him sixteen years to finally return to the place where it all began for him. To see his parent's graves there like that…

He wasn't so sure that was the best thing to do at the time… not with everything that was going on. But he hoped that it helped him somewhat… to see that his parents truly did love him and that they died because it was their choice to protect him.

But as he was thinking that, Hermione stopped them both and she froze, terror on her face. He felt his heart sink as Harry asked hurried, "What's wrong?"

"There's someone there. Someone watching us," she whispered quickly to him and Albus looked up at once when she added, "I can tell. There, over by the bushes."

Who's following them? They should get the cloak back on and leave right now. They stood still, holding onto each other as they gazed back at the graveyard, though Harry didn't seem to have been able to see anything as he asked, "Are you sure?"

"I saw something move. I could have sworn I did…" she whispered as she reached for her wand.

"We look like Muggles," Harry pointed out.

Yes, but why would a pair of Muggles visit the Potters' grave? Or put those flowers there? No… if they had been there the whole time they would've seen that.

Hermione obviously thought that as well for he heard her whisper urgently, "Muggles who've just been laying flowers on your parents' grave? Harry, I'm sure there's someone over there!"

"It's a cat," said Harry, after a second or two, "or a bird. If it was a Death Eater we'd be dead by now. But let's get out of here, and we can put the Cloak back on."

Yes, please… but there was still the matter of the snow and their footprints… that problem doesn't just go away because you want to keep yourself hidden for view. He watched anxiously as the two kept their eyes peeled on everything around them like they expected to be attacked at any moment. They kept looking back so often that it was as if they both had twitches, and when they reached the gate they pulled the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves and disappeared from view.

They walked as quickly as they dared, past more windows sparkling with multicolored lights, the outlines of Christmas trees dark through the curtains. Albus followed after them as they headed deeper into the village and Albus knew that it was only going to be a matter of time before they found _it_…

"How are we going to find Bathilda's house?" he heard Hermione whisper from under the cloak, "Harry? What do you think? Harry?"

But Harry was clearly not paying attention as he was now almost dragging Hermione behind him, who was trying to ask him what the problem was… but Harry had already spotted the house.

"Look… Look at it, Hermione…" he said and he heard her little gasp of astonishment when she saw it. It had been a lot time since Albus saw this house as well… with the garden that Lily had once worked so hard to keep filled with flowers, had now grown wild, and though most of the cottage was still standing, it was covered with a thick level of snow and ivy. But Albus could tell that Harry was staring at the top right side of the house, where the floor had been blown apart.

This was something he always wondered about… how could Harry have survived that? Surviving the curse was one thing, but to be untouched by the rubble? There were still so many questions about that night that was a mystery to him, so much confusion that even he had yet to make sense of it all. But this wasn't the time to think about that.

Harry and Hermione were at the gate, staring up at the cottage as Hermione asked, "I wonder why nobody's ever rebuilt it?"

Harry suggested that maybe they just couldn't fix something that had been damaged by a dark curse. Well, that was part of it. But the real reason was to make it a kind of monument. A monument to sacrifice that ended the fight against Voldemort for so many years. Families used to bring their children to see it and so that they could teach them that this was the kind of world that they lived in now and how good they had it thanks to the sacrifices made by those who came before. And so that they could always remember the family that had been torn apart.

He suddenly saw Harry's hand suddenly slipped out from under the cloak and grasped the rusted gate, as if he simply wanted to touch some part of the house. But as Hermione warned him that it wasn't safe, a small sign rose out of the ground through the nettles and weeds so that they could read the words… Albus had read this so many times that he knew it by heart.

_On this spot, on this night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family._

He was curious to see how Harry would react when he saw all the graffiti that had been left there over the years, and he saw Harry's finger tracing among the most recent…

_Good luck, Harry, wherever you are._

_If you read this, Harry, we're all behind you!_

_Long live Harry Potter._

"They shouldn't have written on the sign!" said Hermione, indignantly.

But Harry seemed to be laughing slightly. "It's brilliant. I'm glad they did. I…" He broke off for at that moment someone was coming towards them from the darkness.

'_Oh no…'_ Albus thought, wishing that they would just leave now. They came here and saw everything they needed to see here, but they had to get out while there was still a chance. And when he saw who—or _what_—it was he felt his insides freeze. It was the figure of Bathilda Bagshot… or rather her body that housed Nagini inside. She shuffled in the snow and was looking at them long and he wanted nothing more than to shout out a warning. She limped by, and faced them and gazing at the Potter's cottage and to Harry… guessing two and two even though they were wearing the cloak… she could most likely smell them…

"How does she know?" Hermione whispered and 'Bathilda' beckoned vigorously for them to follow her.

Finally he heard Harry speak up, causing Hermione to gasp and jump. "Are you Bathilda?"

The muffled figure nodded and beckoned again. Even if she spoke, Albus knew that Harry wouldn't suspect the truth until it was too late. For he had once told him that when he hears snakes speak, it's as if they were in English to him. There wasn't anything more that he could do but watch her led them to Bathilda's old house, which had gone to ruin.

He couldn't bear to watch, yet at the same time he couldn't turn away as the disguised Nagini continued to go around the house, and he heard Hermione's voice breath out in hardly more than a whisper, "Harry, I'm not sure about this."

"Look at the size of her, I think we could overpower her if we had to," said Harry.

"Nothing's ever as it seems, Harry," Albus whispered quietly, his mouth in a worried frown, making his face look older than usual.

"Listen, I should have told you, I knew she wasn't all there," he whispered back, "Muriel called her 'gaga.'"

Well, she was strange at the best of times… but they were in serious danger here… and at last Nagini hissed to Harry to come with her.

"It's okay," said Harry reassuringly to Hermione, and he led the way into the sitting room where she was now trying to light a candle and he had to fight the urge to cover his eyes at all this was happening. Harry lit the matches and candle stubs so that a faint light was filling the room. But Albus's heart sank when Harry found the photographs on the chest of drawers and he cleared off the dust to get a look at them all. He reached over and took the picture of Grindlewald in his youth. Albus stiffened at the photo, but that wasn't important now.

"Mrs. - Miss - Bagshot?" he said, and his voice shook slightly. "Who is this?"

"I'm sure you're sure to find out, Harry," Albus whispered. But if learning about his past and thinking poorly of him would be the worst from this experience, he'd take it and be grateful. Though he couldn't help but feel like he had been punched at the thought.

Harry tried to get her attention again, with the picture in his hands, but she wasn't daring to say anything that might expose herself for what she really was.

"Harry, what are you doing?" asked Hermione when Harry kept pressing her.

"This picture," he answered her, "Hermione, it's the thief, the thief who stole from Gregorovitch! Please!" He looked back to their 'host' and asked again, "Who is this?" But she only stared at him.

"Why did you ask us to come with you, Mrs. - Miss - Bagshot?" asked Hermione, raising her own voice. "Was there something you wanted to tell us?"

No, but to try and keep their attention, to grab Harry when he least expected it and hold him there so that when her master came. Instead she came to Harry and he asked if she wanted them to leave. That was what _he_ wanted, silently begging for Harry to listen to his senses… which he was sure were telling him to leave now. But she was gesturing him to come with her upstairs.

"Oh, right… Hermione, I think she wants me to go upstairs with her," he said.

"NO…" Albus cried out, wanting to reach out and grab him, but he was as good as made of air.

"All right," said Hermione, "let's go." But when she moved, 'Bathilda' shook her head with surprising vigor, once more pointing first at Harry, then to herself, letting her know that she only wanted Harry to go with her.

"Why?" asked Hermione, and her voice rang out sharp and clear in the candlelit room.

"Maybe Dumbledore told her to give the sword to me, and only to me?" Harry offered. No… it's just that with one less person to worry about, she'd be able to have a good chance to hold him down.

"Do you really think she knows who you are?" Hermione pressed him.

"Yes," Albus said. Unfortunately, everyone knew who Harry was, but Nagini would know better than most.

"Yes," said Harry, glancing back at 'Bathilda' again. "I think she does."

"Well, okay then, but be quick, Harry," she said and Albus felt his heart sink as she led Harry towards the door and up the stairs, slipping the picture into his pocket. Up the steep and narrow stairs, up to a low-ceiling bedroom and Harry lit his wand when she closed the door.

"You are Potter?" she whispered.

"Don't answer her, Harry," Albus whispered, but Harry already said, "Yes, I am…"

At his words, he paled even further and shook his head as Harry asked if she had anything for him. She closed her eyes and at that, Harry staggered back slightly with his hand on his forehead searing in pain and he could see the locket around his neck pulsating slightly like it was alive. Miles away, Albus checked on Tom, who had been travelling abroad, freeze and a look of excitement came over his face as he said in that high, cold voice, "Hold him!"

No…

Albus gave a sharp intake of breath and felt as though he was underwater since his lungs couldn't fill. Harry was swaying where he stood, the pain in his head must've been great, and Albus was just hoping that Harry realized what it meant. That Voldemort knew that he was there.

"Have you got anything for me?" he asked for a third time, much louder.

No Harry… you must leave. But when 'Bathilda' pointed to the corner, Harry had gone to where the dressing table was underneath a window. Harry at least kept his eyes on her this time, yet it was too late for at that moment, Nagini had finally burst from the old body, which fell to the ground and the snake slithered out of the neck. 'Bathilda' had been an Inferi all along and was merely being used as both a puppet and a disguise for Nagini. Harry saw what had happened too late for when he raised his wand, the snake launched itself at him, biting deeply into his forearm.

He knew that she was poisonous, but she had control over the venom she releases… she wasn't to poison Harry at this point… but to give him just a tiny bit to keep him down. The snake then hit Harry in the midriff and knocked the air out of him as he fell back into the dressing table and rolled sideways, trying to avoid the snake once again as the glass from the mirror shattered.

"Harry?" called Hermione's voice and Albus knew that she must've been able to hear the banging going on. Harry tried to call for her, but he didn't seem to be able to as Nagini slithered onto him and kept him pinned. "No…!" was all he could gasp as he was held down. Albus bit his lower lip, knowing that there was no way that Harry would be able to get that snake off him on his own.

Harry tried to summon his wand, but he needed both his hands to keep Nagini from coiling itself around his torso, and he seemed to struggle just to breathe. The Horcrux was glowing with a kind of dark light from under his shirt and he seemed to seize up like he was having a seizer.

At that moment, Hermione had heard the commotion and came running into the room and screamed Harry's name in terror as she pulled out her wand and struck at the snake. At the distraction, Nagini had loosened her grip so that Harry could scramble away as she turned to Hermione, who shrieked in panic and dove aside and her deflected curse hit the window and cold air filled the room as the glass shattered. Harry had to duck to avoid the glass and he slipped on his wand before he snatched it up.

Albus felt the feeble spark of hope inside him, but Nagini thrashed around, and Hermione was trying to fight—hitting the snake so that it flew up to hit the ceiling, but smacked Harry hard as it fell down. Harry raised his wand and he winced in pain as he cried out to Hermione, "He's coming! Hermione, he's coming!"

Which couldn't have been at the worst timing. But he wasn't sure if it was a good thing that he was at least aware of it. At least they have a chance of getting away in time… but Tom was coming quickly, they had to hurry… they had minutes at most…

Nagini hissed wildly from the fall she took as chaos burst out everywhere. Broken china fell from the smashed shelves, and there was so much noise that he was sure that people outside were sure to hear it. Harry jumped over the bed and grabbed Hermione, who cried out in fear until she saw it was him and let him pull her across the bed to the window.

Yes… if they could just get outside they could disapparate out of there… but Nagini was far from over. She lunged at the two of them and was about to strike at Harry once again until Hermione cast a spell which caused the wardrobe mirror to explode and ricochet around the room violently and to his horror the spell ended up hitting Harry's wand hand where the wand snapped almost clean in two.

"No…" he whispered back, knowing that wand had been Harry's protection against Voldemort's… but that was driven from his mind as he felt it… Tom was here. He appeared just as Hermione pulled Harry out of the window with her and screamed before they twisted in the air… and vanished just as Tom flew to the window, his hands clutching at the sill as he screamed with rage at the sight of them disappearing.

But something was wrong… Albus followed after the two, who disapparated outside the village to a distance hill, where Hermione was staring around fearfully.

"We did it… we got away, Harry… Harry?" she asked before she looked and saw the blood that was gushing from his arm. "HARRY!"

She rolled over and crawled desperately over to him and rolled him onto his back to see his pale face. He was staring up at the sky like he was in shock, but he was thriving around wildly now and they both knew he was having another vision. "Harry? Harry? Can you hear me?"

But it was clear to her that he couldn't make heads or tails of what was going on around him and she was looking around desperately, trying to figure out what to do. She then touched his chest and she redrew her hand with a cry of pain and sucked on her fingers before he realized that the tips of her fingers were burned slightly. He looked to see what had caused them and realized that the locket was glowing almost red-hot and there was the smell of burnt flesh… burning onto Harry's chest.

She saw this and let out a panicked gasp as she grabbed hold of the chain and tried to pull it off, but it was now almost stuck to his chest and no matter how hard she pulled, she couldn't seem to break it free. But Harry was now yelling out in pain, thrashing around and Hermione was left with a drastic solution and pulled out her wand to cast a Severing Charm to break it away from him.

At last it worked and it broke away. She threw the cursed object onto the ground and left it there as she tried to tend to her friend. On his chest was now the perfectly circular burn mark just above his heart.

"Hermione," Albus whispered as she looked tearfully around, as if hoping that someone could help them. "You need to calm down… quiet your mind and think…"

Miraculously, as if she heard him, she seemed to slowly calm down and began to start thinking of what to do. At last she jumped up and went hurrying around in a circle, trying to put up their protective charms and spells before she went back to Harry and did what she could for him there. She tied up his forearm in a handkerchief to stop the bleeding before she pulled the tent out of her back and set it up.

He watched, hoping that it would be enough to help, as she got ready to move him inside. But he was too heavy for her to move on her own so she had to levitate him up and into the tent before she dropped him onto the nearest bunk and did her best to start to treat him. That was when she finally spotted the broken wand and she let out a cry of despair.

"One thing at a time, Hermione," Albus whispered to her and once again she seemed to hear him. She wiped her tears away as she set it aside for not and continued to try and take care of Harry.

"No…" Harry moaned out over and over again. Albus didn't know what he was seeing, but it must've been terrible for him to be reacting as violently as he had been. Hermione stayed calm for the most part, she cleaned out the wound and dropped a few drops of Dittany onto it so that the wound closed and stopped the flow of blood. She then gathered up every single blanket inside the tent and covered him in many different layers to try and keep him warm even as he became drenched in sweat.

She sat there and wiped at his forehead with a sponge and whispered soothing words of comfort to him, trying to coax him back to reality. Yet hours went by, and still she stayed by his side well into the night and even as the first few rays of sunrise were just about to poke their heads over the horizon.

He never left either…

He sat there and stayed… also trying to draw Harry out of this terrible vision he was trapped in. He wasn't sure if he could hear him, but it at least brought him some comfort to think that he could.

"No…" Harry whispered, over and over again.

"Harry, it's all right, you're all right!" she cried out desperately to him, trying to get him to wake up.

"No… I dropped it… I dropped it…" he repeated and Albus blinked in confusion. Dropped it? Dropped what? Suddenly he understood and remembered that the picture of Grindlewald was left behind at Godric's Hallow. And he was sure to finally know who it was who had stolen the wand all those years ago…

Hermione didn't move from that spot as she tended to him, whispering over and over that it was alright, that he was safe.

"Harry, it's okay, wake up, wake up!" she pleaded, and at long last, Harry's bright green eyes opened up and he was staring at her.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, relief in her face. "Do you feel all - all right?"

"Yes," he said but anyone could see right through that lie. He was far from alright… but at least he was finally awake. He was staring around the tent with a confused look on his face. "We got away…" he croaked up at her.

"Yes," she whispered back, "I had to use a Hover Charm to get you into your bunk. I couldn't lift you. You've been… Well, you haven't been quite…"

He looked up at her face and then to the sponge in her hands as she finished, "You've been ill. Quite ill."

She had been so scared… and Albus knew that being forced to just sit there and not know what was truly happening. He could tell that she knew that Harry was having a vision, but there wasn't anything else that she could do about it but to just be there and take care of him until he came back.

"How long ago did we leave?" Harry asked.

"Hours ago. It's nearly morning," she told him tiredly.

"And I've been… what, unconscious?" Harry asked, wiping his sweaty bangs from out of his eyes.

"Not exactly," she told him uncomfortably. "You've been shouting and moaning and… things…"

Harry looked up at her, as if concerned over whatever might've happened. Albus looked at the two sadly, knowing that Hermione was hiding how scared she had been, how helpless she had felt not knowing what was wrong with him nor how she could help. She quickly changed the subject and told him that she had to cut the Horcrux off his chest, and how she did the best she could with the snake bite.

Harry sat up shakily and pulled his shirt away so that he could see the wounds. The half healed marks to his arm and the slight burn over his heart. Albus felt himself rack with guilt at the sight of all this.

"Where've you put the Horcrux?" Harry asked.

"In my bag," she told him. "I think we should keep it off for a while."

He certainly agreed with that. They were under enough as it is without having that cursed thing around and making everything seem so much worse. Harry laid back and looked at her exhausted face as he told her mournfully, "We shouldn't have gone to Godric's Hollow. It's my fault, it's all my fault. Hermione, I'm sorry."

Albus shook his head. No, Harry deserved it… he needed to see all that… if only they had left after seeing the house… if there was anyone here to blame… it was the man who had sent them on his quest to begin with.

"It's not your fault," Hermione insisted, "I wanted to go too; I really thought Dumbledore might have left the sword there for you."

"Yeah, well… we got that wrong, didn't we?" Harry asked and Albus flinched a little at his cold words.

"What happened, Harry? What happened when she took you upstairs?" Hermione pressed him, "Was the snake hiding somewhere? Did it just come out and kill her and attack you?"

"No," Harry said, "She _was_ the snake… or the snake was her… all along."

"W-what?" Hermione stuttered and Harry closed his eyes as he told her how the snake had been inside Bathilda's body. How Voldemort put her there to wait for him in case he did come back. Hermione looked like she was about to be sick as Harry informed her that the reason she didn't talk in front of Hermione was because she was speaking Parseltongue.

Yes, Hermione couldn't actually hear the words… that was why she couldn't understand anything that was actually going on. Harry went on to tell her that he went up to that room and that was when Nagini sent a message to Voldemort, how he heard it inside his head and felt him get excited at the thought of killing him. How He told Nagini to try to hold him there.

He hesitated for a moment and skipped over the details of how Nagini emerged and attacked him. Albus suspected that it was for Hermione's sake and knew knew that she would've been grateful for him leaving the details out… but there were some things that should never be witnessed… and it saddened him greatly to think that they would have to see such a thing in the world.

Harry looked down at his arm once again and said, almost to himself, "It wasn't supposed to kill me, just keep me there till You-Know-Who came." Suddenly he pushed himself up even more and threw the covers off him.

"Harry, no, I'm sure you ought to rest!" Hermione cried out.

"You're the one who needs sleep," he said, looking around for a distraction. "No offense, but you look terrible. I'm fine. I'll keep watch for a while. Where's my wand?"

Hermione froze, looking away and shame crept up into her face.

"Where's my wand, Hermione?" Harry pressed her, worry in his eyes, and he was probably wondering if he dropped it back at Godric's Hallow. She bit her lip and tears began to form in her eyes.

"Harry…" she began.

"Where's my wand?" Harry asked quickly and she merely reached down beside the bed and held out what remained of his wand. Albus got a good look at it… the fragile strand of phoenix feather was the only thing that kept both pieces hanging together… Harry reached out and took it into his hands and stared at it as if he was looking at a dear friend who had suffered a terrible wound. He just stared at it, looking completely lost as to what to do.

It was dangerous to be without a wand even during a peaceful time… he was completely defenseless now. And he couldn't get a new wand since Ollivander was being held hostage.

Harry held the wand to Hermione. "Mend it. Please," he pleaded.

Albus's heart went out to him and knew that it would be almost impossible to repair it. Only the Elder Wand would even have a chance.

Hermione looked startled and said, "Harry, I don't think, when it's broken like this -"

"Please, Hermione, try!" he begged and she did her best. The two halves resealed but when Harry tried to light it up it just sparkled feebly before it went out. He looked to Hermione and then tried to disarm her, but the most that it did was make her wand give a little jerk before his wand split in two again.

He stared at the two pieces once again, unable to believe what he was seeing, as if he just couldn't accept it…

"Harry," Hermione whispered so quietly he could hardly hear her. "I'm so, so sorry. I think it was me. As we were leaving, you know, the snake was coming for us, and so I cast a Blasting Curse, and it rebounded everywhere, and it must have - must have hit -"

But at least they were alive. Albus almost expected Harry to snap at the confession but he said, almost unthinkingly, "It was an accident. We'll - we'll find a way to repair it."

"Harry, I don't think we're going to be able to," said Hermione, the tears trickling down her face. "Remember… remember Ron? When he broke his wand, crashing the car? It was never the same again, he had to get a new one."

Albus looked up at the mention of Ron's name… at long last they had spoken just his name and knew that Ron at least heard that much. Whether or not they could come back together again was something that he couldn't answer.

"Well," Harry said, in a falsely matter-of-fact voice, "well, I'll just borrow yours for now, then. While I keep watch."

He looked at her tear-filled face as she handed it over, and left her sitting beside the bed as he went out. She stared after him in misery, but she was so exhausted that she didn't do anything else as she crawled onto a bed and collapsed.

Albus opened his eyes and stared long and hard at the mist that continued to twinkle about him—lost in a spiral of troubling thoughts. It wasn't until hours later did he decide to check in on them again, just to make sure that they were alright. The sun had come up and spread a warm light across the snowy landscape, but Harry was sitting in the entrance to the tent and was staring ahead of him with a vacant look in his eyes.

His fingers were digging so hard into his arm Albus was concerned that he might start breaking skin. But he knew the feeling of being without a wand now… to feel so weak and vulnerable…

He guessed that Harry had been counting on the protection of the twin cores but that may no longer matter if Tom was searching for a new wand… or in this case… a very old one. He watched as he pulled his broken wand out and then tucked them away in the pouch around his neck. He then pulled out the old Snitch that he had left him in his will and he could see the anger flash in his face. He could tell that Harry was fighting the urge to throw it away… but instead he simply put it back into the pouch.

But the anger in his face didn't disappear as he glared out at the landscape and it didn't take a Seer to know _whom_ it was that he was furious with. He could see it from their point of course… he had left them to cope entirely on their own. Seemingly alone and unaided without having explained and now Harry was without his wand and most likely beating himself up over dropping the photograph for Voldemort to find, and Albus knew that it would be easier for him to get information than it would be for Harry…

He wanted nothing more than to believe that this will all be worth it in the end… that this will force him to think things through and to plan ahead. Harry's hot head had gotten him into trouble more times than once and he wanted to think that he would understand in the end…

"Harry?" whispered a worried voice and Hermione was standing there with a book tucked under her arm and two cups in trembling hands. She looked a little better after some sleep, but there were still tears in her eyes and she seemed worried that he might blow up at her if she said anything.

"Thanks," Harry told her as he took one of the cups and she asked if she could talk with him. Harry let her sit down next to him and she pulled out the book and told him that she knew who that man in the picture was and she held up the copy of _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_.

Albus's breathing got caught in his throat at the sight of it. He wondered where Hermione had gotten that from before he remembered that there was a copy of it at Bathilda's. His thoughts were proven right when she told him that she saw it lying in Bathilda's living room.

"This note was sticking out of the top of it," she told him as she held out the note that was written in acid-green ink. "_'Dear Bally, Thanks for your help. Here's a copy of the book, hope you like it. You said everything, even if you don't remember it. Rita.'_"

"I think it must have arrived while the real Bathilda was alive," Hermione said, "but perhaps she wasn't in any fit state to read it?"

She had always been horrible that Rita… and he thought about how hard it had been on Bathilda when she had extracted the memories. She had just gloated at her and admitted that she did something horrible… of course with Bathilda now dead and the war going on, Rita's writing was the least of everyone's concerns. Yet even as he tried to remind himself of that, the look on Harry's face made his heart tear in two.

That look made Albus frown sadly, not sure if he could take it. He hoped that Harry would be able to pick out the truth from it… but how could he if he didn't even know anything about it?

"You're still really angry at me, aren't you?" Hermione asked shamefully, more tears falling.

"No," Harry said quietly and he could hear the sincerity in his voice. "No, Hermione, I know it was an accident. You were trying to get us out of there alive, and you were incredible. I'd be dead if you hadn't been there to help me."

He forced a small smile before he opened the book and was riffling through the pages looking for pictures… and he found what he was looking for quickly. Albus looked at the picture and his eyes closed once more as he remembered that day so clearly… how they were just a couple arrogant and ambitious boys who didn't really know what the world was truly like.

He then heard Harry read out the caption below that picture…_ Albus Dumbledore, shortly after his mother's death, with his friend Gellert Grindelwald._

He heard Harry gape at the last word and he knew the two of them were staring at each other in shock. He didn't need to see their faces to know that… he hung his head as he heard Hermione croak out, "Grindelwald?!"

And he could hear them flipping through pages, trying to find something to make sense of all this. Albus turned his back on them as the feeling of shame washed over him once again. What Rita had dug up was worse than anything he could've imagined. He remembered it all so clearly… he had left Hogwarts just before he had turned eighteen and had been ready to take on anything that the world had to offer. He had already won countless awards and was about to take the Grand Tour with Elphias before he received the news.

He had just finished packing, excitement filling up inside him at the thought of finally having the chance to see the world before he opened that letter and the sick waves of disappointment and anger washed over him along with anger when he found out that his mother was gone. He felt shame for thinking about it, but he hated the fact that his mother was dead for now that meant that he was the one who had to take care of his brother and sister. Oh, what was wrong with him?

It was the proper thing to do… to look after Ariana until Aberforth finished school. If he could just get through one or two more years surely that would've been alright wouldn't it? But he didn't care… not nearly enough and he wished that he could've done more by it.

He was only eighteen at the time and it was hard for him to give up everything that he wanted to do at the time to take care of his siblings. It was as much as he could do at the time—or so he told himself… and Aberforth wasn't the easiest person to keep an eye on. He liked to run wild and was never the sociable type…

With Ariana emotionally and mentally unstable, there wasn't any other choice but to keep her locked in the house. And so, the idea of the Deathly Hallows soon became a passionate and deep obsession with him. He had did his best to care for his siblings for those first few weeks but that was when he met with Grindelwald and fed the flames for his lust for power.

He was such a foolish young man. He should've seen from the start just what kind of person that he would turn out—he had it written in ugly black letters all across his soul. He knew from before that his new best friend had been expelled from Durmstrang and he couldn't help but wonder what he did in a school that teaches you Dark Arts to do such a thing. When he had first met him, he couldn't deny that he had loved his company. To have someone to challenge him and have an intelligent conversation.

He had truly missed it. To have someone that he could speak so openly to… to discuss something and not be afraid of holding anything back. And he hadn't been able to do that with anyone for a long, long time. It was a hard learned lesson. He remembered with a sickening heart at the thought of that one letter, the letter that he knew was in there, and wanted nothing more than to bash his head against a wall to erase those memories from his mind. Even as a child, he was a powerful wizard that thought that he could change things for the greater good.

He could never forget nor forgive his weakness of mind at that point however. He had given up his better judgment simply because he was so enthralled to have met someone who he thought truly understood him… he had already had resentment towards his siblings trying to look after them.

It was what happened with his sister that made him think like that. Ariana had never been the same after that. She tried to stop being a witch, but power like that can't be getting rid of. He knew now that he could not judge all Muggles as a whole for the actions of a few. But at this time of his life it was easier to believe that if he had been in charge of everything then things would be better… that Ariana didn't have to hide anymore and that he could rule.

But it wasn't simply to control or wipe out the Muggles. He really thought that it was for the best. He had spent the rest of his life to try and make up for that… no matter what happened in his past he wanted to seem like his life was worth something. If he could spare someone from suffering the same way as Ariana then it would've been worth it, right?

He never did find out who it was who had killed Ariana… but it didn't really matter anymore. For he knew that it was _his_ fault that it ever got to such a point… and his sister had to pay the price for his mistake.

And of course, Aberforth blamed him for it all. Which he had every right to… and as for Gellert, he knew that he must have secretly feared the truth of who was responsible for Ariana's death… why else would he refuse to face him for so long when he was gaining power? But when he could no longer make excuses and forced himself to confront his old friend, he did so for he knew that he had to try and make up for his sins once again.

That was a difference between himself and Harry… Harry was still so young and shouldn't be involved in a war in the first place. Yet despite that he never shied away from a battle.

"Harry…?" croaked Hermione's voice and Albus took a deep breath before he finally made himself look back at them. Hermione had tugged the book out of Harry's hands and was looking anxiously at the look of stunned disbelief on his face.

He knew what was going through his head…

It was more painful than he thought it would be… but he deserved it. He knew that there was no other way out of it. But to lose Harry's complete respect…?

"Harry," Hermione said hurriedly, and she seemed to have heard his thoughts as well as she said, "Listen to me. It - it doesn't make a very nice reading -"

"Yeah, you could say that -" Harry said, and it was surprisingly calm. But Albus had a feeling that wasn't going to remain that way for much longer.

"- but don't forget, Harry, this is Rita Skeeter writing," Hermione began.

"You did read that letter to Grindelwald, didn't you?" Harry cut across and she couldn't seem to find any other way around it.

"Yes, I - I did," she admitted as she stared at her tea. "I think that's the worst bit. I know Bathilda thought it was all just talk, but 'For the Greater Good' became Grindelwald's slogan, his justification for all the atrocities he committed later. And… from that… it looks like Dumbledore gave him the idea. They say 'For the Greater Good' was even carved over the entrance to Nurmengard."

She was right unfortunately. He did give Gellert that idea didn't he? That's why it seemed fitting to lock him in Nurmengard once their battle was finally over.

"What's Nurmengard?" Harry asked in confusion.

"The prison Grindelwald had built to hold his opponents," she explained grimly, "He ended up in there himself, once Dumbledore had caught him. Anyway, it's - it's an awful thought that Dumbledore's ideas helped Grindelwald rise to power. But on the other hand, even Rita can't pretend that they knew each other for more than a few months one summer when they were both really young, and -"

Harry wasn't going to like that statement…

"I thought you'd say that," said Harry, and his voice was shaking with suppressed anger. "I thought you'd say 'They were young.' They were the same age as we are now. And here we are, risking our lives to fight the Dark Arts, and there he was, in a huddle with his new best friend, plotting their rise to power over the Muggles."

And that was what made it seem so much worse. Yet he couldn't stop the faint shadow of a smile that came back to his face. This proved once again that Harry was a better man than he, himself, had ever been.

Harry got up and began to pace around the clearing, trying to work off some of his anger like the night that they went to try and retrieve the Horcrux from the cave.

"I'm not trying to defend what Dumbledore wrote," said Hermione. "All that 'right to rule' rubbish, it's 'Magic Is Might' all over again. But Harry, his mother had just died, he was stuck alone in the house -"

"Alone?" Harry snapped back, "He wasn't alone! He had his brother and sister for company, his Squib sister he was keeping locked up -"

Albusy flinched at the words as Hermione said firmly, "I don't believe it." He felt a surge of gratitude towards her words as she went on, "Whatever was wrong with that girl, I don't think she was a Squib. The Dumbledore we knew would never, ever have allowed-"

"The Dumbledore we _thought_ we knew didn't want to conquer Muggles by force!" Harry shouted, his voice echoing across the empty hilltop, and several blackbirds rose into the air, squawking and spiraling against the pearly sky.

"But I wasn't the same one you knew when I was your age, Harry," Albus confessed almost silently.

"He changed, Harry, he changed!" Hermione cried out, almost as loudly, "It's as simple as that! Maybe he did believe these things when he was seventeen, but the whole of the rest of his life was devoted to _fighting_ the Dark Arts! Dumbledore was the one who stopped Grindelwald, the one who always voted for Muggle protection and Muggle born rights, who fought You-Know-Who from the start, and who died trying to bring him down!"

Neither one said anything to that for some time. Both of them just looked long and hard at each other before Hermione said what seemed to be really bothering him.

"Harry," she said, "I'm sorry, but I think the real reason you're so angry is that Dumbledore never told you any of this himself."

Albus never told anyone this before. He never had the courage to reveal the weakest part of his life. He had always told himself that he had to be the strong one, which meant he had to keep those emotions at bay.

"Maybe I am!" Harry finally bellowed, and he flung his arms over his head, as he continued to shout out, "Look what he asked from me, Hermione! Risk your life, Harry! And again! And again! And don't expect me to explain everything, just trust me blindly, trust that I know what I'm doing, trust me even though I don't trust you! Never the whole truth! Never!"

His voice cracked at last and they just continued to look long and hard at the other.

The worst part was though that he knew it wasn't untrue. Look what he did ask of him and his friends. To hunt down pieces of a madman's soul without any clue as to where they would be. And the truth was that he trusted Harry with his life… just not his past…

Harry had lost everything to Voldemort and he had sent him on a mission to destroy the remaining horcrxes but hadn't given him a clear idea of where they are or how to destroy them. Ron had already walked out on them—though he knew that that might not remain that way for long—and their last idea of where the sword might have been had backfired in a grotesque ambush. Now his wand had been broken in half and he is forced to borrow a wand from Hermione to protect himself… and to top it all off… this…?

Now he doubts everything he thought he knew about the man who sent him on this journey.

His desire for power had been his greatest flaw. Though he only ever desired it for good, he knew that he couldn't be trusted with it. He remembered when he had told Harry about how the mirror worked… how he had gotten the Sorcerer's Stone out… because he just wanted to find it but not to use it. He knew from that moment on that he was worthy of the Deathly Hallows because of that same reason. And he had kept that faith all this time…

"He loved you," Hermione whispered and Albus froze. "I _know_ he loved you."

Harry also started to freeze at her words before he seemed to drop his arms in defeat.

"I don't know who he loved, Hermione," he confessed. "But it was never me. This isn't love, the mess he's left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me."

"That doesn't mean that I don't Harry…" Albus whispered, wanting nothing more than to tell him how wrong he was. But what else could he do…? If Harry had truly closed his heart up to him then there was no other way he could let him hear the words that he wanted to say.

Harry picked up Hermione's wand and told Hermione that he would finish the watch and that she should get back inside where it was warmer.

She hesitated for a moment, but seemed to see that there was no longer any point in trying to talk about it. She picked up the book and walked passed him into the tent… but she stopped to brush the top of his head with her hand and he closed his eyes at her touch… as if it offered him some kind of comfort.

He sat there for what felt like hours, simply watching, never speaking… Harry never once moved from that spot as he stared ahead of him with that angry, but empty, look in his eyes. Hermione would come out once in a while to check on him, to make sure that he was alright and even offered to take over the watch from him once or twice. But he just insisted on it… said he needed something to do, and she didn't press the matter.

But as darkness slowly began to creep over the horizon, Hermione insisted that he come inside for some food. Maybe because there was no other excuse inside him, Harry finally got up and went in as they had a sad meal of food that they had managed to scavenge up. They sat in silence for a while and Albus was just wondering if he should go when Hermione said unexpectedly, "Merry Christmas by the way."

Harry looked up at her, startled, before he realized that she was right. It _was_ Christmas.

"I forgot…" he said and there was actually a faint smile on his mouth. "With everything that's been happening, it slipped my mind. Well, I think it's safe to say I've had better Christmas's."

She looked at him sadly. "You still… angry?" she asked softly.

"Yes…" he confessed, "But… that's not important now is it? How I feel?"

"It matters to me," Hermione said softly. "And to so many other people. Harry… you're important to all of us."

He didn't answer as he merely looked at her with sad eyes.

"Harry," she said worriedly, putting her spoon down from the mushroom stew that they were having. "This isn't good for you. All this hate and anger, it's not good for you."

"How are you not as angry as I am about all this?" Harry asked her grimly. "I mean… aren't you upset at all about our situation?"

"Of course I am," she told him softly. "And I am angry at Dumbledore for all that's happened. But I don't think that he had expected to die like he had. He knew that he would've had more time to try and help you and prepare you…?"

Albus reached up to cover his face as he fought the tears of regret that were threatening to break free.

"And you're right, I didn't forgive him for any of this," Hermione went on.

"Could've fooled me," Harry muttered.

"No, I have to forgive him every single day for this," Hermione said firmly as she watched him get up and pace inside the tent once again. "Again and again, and though it's easier sometimes than others."

"How do you do that?" Harry asked her, trying to find some kind of an answer as to what to do, "Because I sure can't."

"I know that everything he did he did for you," Hermione told him quietly a watery smile on her face. "And I try to think about ending this war before anyone else has to go through what we're going through… what Dumbledore would've want us to do."

"And what is that anymore?" Harry asked, his back to her.

"If you don't know, then I don't know who would," Hermione said softly. "You knew what went on inside him better than anyone."

"Then why…?" he asked her desperately, looking over at her. "What do I care? Why did it have to be me? I want to let go… I really… really do… to forget all about anger and everything so that I can just move on. But… but, I just don't know how…"

She stared at him sadly before she also got up and hugged him from behind, resting her check on his back for a moment.

"That's something only you can decide," she whispered to him and even gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Albus opened his eyes and realized that there were warm tears falling down his face. He reached up and touched them with an almost amazed look.

Maybe if he had friends like Ron and Hermione it would've changed him.

To have someone to look after him like how these two look after each other. Harry is horrified by everything that is happening and angry at him. But he was doing his best not to hurt Hermione… how to protect her from the awful truth of what happened to Bathilda and Nagini… how he's protecting her from his anger. And she tries to comfort him… to give him the one thing that he craves… that there was someone who did care.

And to remind him of all the other people out there—living and dead—who never stopped loving him.

**(How is it? Sorry for the long wait, but there was a power outage about a week ago and it did something really freaky to my computer so I had to wait for days to get it back when I had to get it fixed. Well, I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter and the next one will be of Ron finally returning and what Dumbledore thinks when he sees the three of them back together again. Hope you look forward to it.)**


	67. The Ones You Love Most

**Chapter 67: The Ones You Love Most**

Albus was growing increasingly worried for Harry. His protective instincts haven't faded since his death, in fact they have grown even more so. He tried to reason with himself that it was only natural that they would need time to recuperate from such an experience, but Harry needed sleep to try and recover and he wasn't sleeping.

He awoke in a cold sweat ever hour or so by terrible nightmares, but it wasn't at all difficult to wonder what he was dreaming of. Finally, it reached the point that he couldn't see the point in sleeping anymore and joined Hermione, who was reading 'A History of Magic' by the faint light of her wand. The snow was falling all around them, and she had been looking around worriedly as much as Harry had been. She looked only too relieved at his suggestion of leaving this place early.

"We'll find somewhere more sheltered," she agreed with him as she pulled on a sweatshirt over her pajamas in an attempt to keep warm. "I kept thinking I could hear people moving outside. I even though I saw somebody once or twice."

For the first time in what felt like years, Albus smiled faintly at that. For he knew _who_ it was who had been wandering around there.

"I'm sure I imagined it," said Hermione, looking nervous. "The snow and the dark, it plays tricks on your eyes… but perhaps we ought to Disapparate under the Invisibility Cloak, just in case?"

Though that was a good idea, there was no need to hide from the person who was searching for them. Nonetheless, the two finished packing and covered themselves with the cloak before they Disapparated.

They left, going miles away to the middle of a thick forest, where Hermione informed Harry that they were in the Forest of Dean when she began to open the beaded bag. Oh… they had finally slipped up. Phineas was still with them and had most likely heard Hermione's words… and will undoubtedly tell Severus. It seemed a little much to hope for that Severus will finally be able to get the sword to them, but he couldn't help but feel that faint spark of hope inside him at the idea of destroying that locket at long last.

He patiently waited throughout most of the day as the two spent most of their time inside the tent, trying to keep warm with the bluebell flames that Hermione had conjured up for them. Though his concern for Harry was still strong for he looked as though he had been very ill. Which was to be expected however, for he had been bitten by Nagini… of course he would still be recuperating from such a nasty bite.

But he was also concerned whether Ron would be able to find them. Yes, he had this all planned out… he had a feeling from the start that Ron wouldn't be able to hold up as well as Harry and Hermione and with the threat of his family in danger, there was a chance that he might've left. But he also knew that he would regret such an act and be desperate to find his way back to them.

He had been watching over Ron as well and had seen the anguish in his face when he had arrived back at the campsite, only to see that his friends were gone. He searched all over the place, trying to find some kind of clue or hint to where they might've gone…

Ronald had stayed by the river that entire day and most of the night before, at long last, dejected and heart-broken, he left. He didn't return home to the Burrow, but to his eldest brother's house. Albus had a feeling that Ron couldn't bear having to face the rest of the family, but felt that Bill would be the safest place for him.

Ron barely spoke with Bill or Fleur the entire time that he was there. He merely sat up in their guestroom and listened to the radio, no doubt looking for any kind of information on how his friends were doing. He had been listening to the new network called Potterwatch—which made Albus smile just thinking about some of the broadcasts that they put up—and hung on every word that they said. And though no news about his friends was good news, he couldn't help but lay back onto his bed, disappointment written all over his face.

At long last, his patience was awarded on Christmas morning. He was sitting there, listening to the radio like he was accustomed to doing while at that moment…

'…_Ron? When he broke his wand, crashing the car?'_

Ron's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt-upright, staring around as he looked for Hermione's voice. It had been very faint and it echoed slightly, as if he was hearing it from far away.

_'It was never the same again; he had to get a new one.'_

"Look in your pocket, Ron," Albus said gently, having enchanted that Deluminator before he died… to help you find your way back to the ones you love… but only if _they_ truly wanted you back.

Ron slowly realized that the voice was coming from his own pocket and pulled out the Deluminator with shaking hands, staring at it. He checked it all over before he clicked it open. The light in his room went out… but he wasn't completely in the dark either. For another light appeared outside his window, hovering near the garden. Ron stumbled out of bed and went over to the window to stare at the light. It all seemed to click for him.

He grabbed his bag and began to shove anything and everything he could reach into it before he wrote a quick note for his brother that he was leaving and not to worry before he went running outside to where the light was coming from. The bluish luminescence that you usually see around a Portkey cast an eerie glow over the ground before it slowly began to hover towards him, heading straight for the place above Ron's heart.

This was some of the most difficult magic that Albus could remember doing for a long time. But that light was bringing a warmth inside him, filling his heart with the knowledge of where his friends were and where he wanted to be the most in the world. He watched him disappear on the spot and he was on the hill… not far away from where Harry and Hermione were making camp. Oh, but how to find them with their enchantments up?

But Ron was only thinking of finding them as he began to shout out, "Harry! Hermione!"

Albus was concerned that he would be drawing in unwanted attention, though he knew that there wasn't anyone around for miles. Ron didn't seem to be thinking things through as he looked for any signs that his friends had been there, or might still be.

"Harry?! Harry! Hermione! HARRY! HERMIONE!" he shouted out, calling over and over until he seemed to realize that their protective enchantments were so strong that they couldn't hear. It was still dark out and he knew that he had no hope of finding them like this, so he pulled out his sleeping bag and laid it out under a tree, trying to keep himself as warm as possible, clearly planning to wait for dawn.

The sun had slowly risen and crossed over the sky, and still Ron waited… but there was no longer any point for him to wait since the two had already left mere minutes ago… having been unnerved to the sounds of someone _bumbling_ around outside their camp.

Albus sat with him patiently, wondering if he could feel his presence there or not. But eventually he seemed to realize that he must've missed them. He pulled out his Deluminator in confusion, as if blaming it for not being able to find Harry or Hermione anywhere. He clicked it open and the light had appeared, ready to take him to the next spot and to simply try again.

As Ron disappeared, Albus felt the need to check something else and left to see Severus, wondering if he got the news from Phineas. He had arrived just in time, for Severus had just returned to the office and had just sat down when Phineas came running into his portrait.

"Headmaster!" he cried, out of breath, "They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood – "

Severus's dark eyes suddenly narrowed as he hissed loudly, "Do not use that word!"

Albus smiled sadly down at Severus, knowing how painful that word must bring to him… those bad memories that still haunt his mind…

"– the Granger girl, then," Phineas went on, "Mentioned the place as she opened her bag and I heard her!"

"Good. Very good!" cried his own voice hand Albus looked to his own portrait who quickly told Severus, "Now, Severus, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valor – and he must not know that you give it! If Voldemort should read Harry's mind and see you acting for him – "

"I know," Severus answered in annoyance, like he had been told to do something over and over again and was only doing it now to get him off his back. He took the real sword of Gryffindor from its hiding spot behind the portrait before he picked up his travelling cloak. They exchanged a few more words before he opened his eyes, only to appear back inside the tent. Everything was coming together now…

If things went well tonight, not only will they have their friend back, but they will have the sword and the Horcrux destroyed at the same time… it all depended on the right timing…

He waited anxiously, almost impatiently, the whole time. He stood there and kept a close watch on Harry—who was taking guard duty again. But anyone could see that he was exhausted… he was still recovering from his encounter with Nagini… yet he didn't at all seem willing to go to sleep only to have more nightmares.

He sat there at the tent opening and stared out, trying to keep warm by wearing all the clothes that he had, but even still, he could see him shivering. Albus was just wondering why they didn't teach their students about more survival spells like how to keep warm when Severus made his move.

He could sense it… he checked quickly and saw Severus standing next to a small, frozen pond. He watched as he blew a hole in the ice and let the sword sink to the bottom. That was almost cruel… but necessary. Severus refroze the top of the ice before he retreated to a small closure of trees that would block him from view, but still give him a glimpse of what was going on.

After making sure that his footprints were cleared from the snow, he cast his Patronus. Albus remembered how shocked he had been when he first saw it… knew what it meant. It saddened him greatly as much as it warmed his heart… but Severus had never forgotten about her… never once stopped thinking about Lily.

There wasn't anything else to do but watch and hope that things worked out the way they were supposed to do. The pond wasn't at all far from the tent, nor was Ron… it was a question of who would see it first.

Turns out that it was Harry… who had been dozing from where he sat every once in a while. The darkness had been pressing in all around and he was even holding up his own hand to try and see his fingers in this deep dark. As soon as the light of the Patronus caught his attention, he was on his feet, holding up the borrowed wand, ready to attack whatever was coming.

And then he saw her… the silver white doe that shone as brightly as the moon, dazzling the eyes as she slowly made her way closer to him. At the sight of her, Harry slowly lowered his wand, staring transfixed at the doe and Albus knew why. If there was anyone out there who could sense the familiarity of this doe… of _who_ she represents… it was him. For even though he didn't remember her, no one could ever truly forget their own mother…

Albus could see his own mother's face flash in his mind's eye and his heart ached painfully. He shook his head, trying not to think of his family at that moment and to merely focus on what was going on.

He had hoped that Harry would at least call for Hermione to come with him this time… remembering what happened the last time that he went off on his own. But the doe slowly turned and walked away, leading him back to the pond where the sword lay.

"No," Harry suddenly called, "Come back!"

But she continued to walk away, trying to lead him to come with her. Harry seemed torn about what to do… but at last he went running after her. His instincts were usually good… and he had been surviving off them for years… and he knew that the owner of the Patronus was truly here to help him… as well as Ron also somewhere in this forest… but his heart was beating painfully in his chest.

He wanted to do something to help, but what could he do? The fact that there wasn't anything that he could do made his heart feel like it was being ripped out.

He followed after Harry, who continued to follow the doe, deeper and deeper into the forest. Away from the tent and he had to keep reminding himself that he would be safe with Severus watching… yet he didn't realize just how comforting the light had been. For whey they finally came to the pond, she turned to look at Harry one last time before he started to run after her, opening his mouth as if to speak…

And she was gone.

Harry stopped dead and stared around, fear coming back to his face before he lit up the wand, getting ready to attack.

Albus's eyes went to where Severus was safely hidden in the shadows, who was watching through narrow eyes. He could guess what he was thinking… how it could've been a trap that Harry just walked into. Luckily it wasn't…

Harry slowly stepped forward, his eyes staring around, and he was glad to see that Severus remained out of the reach of the light. Seeing his least favorite teacher—whom he believed was a murderer and Voldemort's right hand man—wouldn't do them any favors. Harry slowly walked over to the frozen pool and Albus supposed that the object in the depths caught his attention with the light gleamed over it.

At once Harry dropped to his knees and stared into the pool at the glittering sword that laid just beyond his reach. Albus couldn't help but smile, glad that something was finally going right for them. Looking like he forgot how to breathe, Harry continued to stare down at the sword, bafflement written all over his face.

Harry then looked around the area again, trying to find someone—anywhere here. Severus moved back ever so slightly as to make sure that he couldn't be seen, but he had also cast a Disillusion Charm over himself before he sent the doe off to find Harry so in this feeble light the odds of being found were near impossible.

Which was in the best interest for everyone.

Harry turned his attention back to the pool and he heard him try to summon the sword to him. Yet when the sword didn't even move, Harry didn't look surprised by this and he began to walk around the circle of ice, trying to think of a way to get it out.

"Help," he heard Harry muttered, though he wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or even to the sword.

But that wasn't how the sword worked… you had to _earn_ it. Which means that there was only one way that he could get the sword out of the water. Harry seemed to have figured that out as well for he let out a long sigh and stopped walking. He glanced around at the trees one last time before he began to start pulling off his many layers of clothes.

At last he took off the pouch that he always wore around his neck and set it on the ground carefully before he pointed Hermione's wand at the ice and blew an opening for him. He watched as Harry then set the wand down and stood on the water's edge, looking like he was doing this against his will.

But that was when Albus noticed something else… he was still wearing the Horcrux. His eyes widening in horror, he tried to shout a warning, but he might not have said anything at all for all the good that it did. Harry finally jumped into the freezing water, letting out a startled cry, struggling to breathe and shaking violently before he submerged completely.

Albus watched in terror as he groped around for the sword, hoping that the locket wouldn't react to anything… but he was wrong. Just as Harry had found the sword, something happened… he let go of the sword and his hands flew up to his throat, struggling to get the chain off him.

He could see that he was tugging desperately, sinking deeper and knew that he was in serious trouble. Albus turned to look at Severus, trying to let him know what was going on… but he seemed to have realized it as well. He stepped out of his hiding place, looking ready to help, but someone else beat him too it. A tall figure with red hair bolted from the trees, dropping his bag before he jumped into the water himself.

Ron…

Ron had found Harry at long last and as soon as he had realized that something was wrong, he went diving in and pulled Harry and the sword out of the water. Grabbing hold of the chain around his neck, he cut it with the sword's blade and it sliced right through it like it was butter.

Choking and retching up water, Harry struggled just to breathe, too tired to even lift his head or notice he was here. He merely kept his hand on his throat where he could see the chain had cut into his skin.

Albus had never been gladder to have left Ron the Deluminator to find his way back to them.

"Are - you - mental?" Ron yelled at him and at the sound of his voice, Harry almost jumped to his feet despite the fact that he was half frozen. If there was ever a way to make up for walking out, this was the way to do so.

"Why the hell," Ron went on, swinging the locket around, "didn't you take the thing off before you dived?"

Harry didn't speak as he got his clothes and began to pull them on, never once tearing his eyes away from Ron, as if afraid that he would disappear again if he looked away. His teeth chattering and his voice hoarse he stuttered out, "It was y-you?"

"Well, yeah," said Ron, looking slightly confused, clearly thinking that Harry was asking if he was the one who pulled him out of the water.

"Y-you cast that doe?" Harry simplified.

"What?" Ron asked in great surprise, "No, of course not! I thought it was you doing it!"

"My Patronus is a stag," Harry reminded him.

"Oh yeah," Ron said, thinking it over, "I thought it looked different. No antlers."

Albus had to fight a smile… already feeling like the world was much lighter with him back. Harry finished putting on his clothes and picked up Hermione's wand before he turned to face him, asking just the one simple question…

"How come you're here?"

Ron looked as if he had been hoping not to have to answer that question and Albus tried to give him some form of comfort. Though whether or not he could feel him there, he didn't know. But Ron finally cleared his throat and said as best as he could, "Well, I've - you know - I've come back. If - You know. You still want me."

There was a rather thick pause between them and Ron was looking nervous, as if he wasn't sure if they would want him to come back. He looked down at his hands, having forgotten about the two things that he had been holding, and he stuttered that he got them out and handed the sword over to Harry, as if he wanted to see for himself if it was real.

"Yeah," said Harry, looking at it before going back to the question at hand. "But I don't understand. How did you get here? How did you find us?"

"Long story," said Ron at once. "I've been looking for you for hours, it's a big forest, isn't it? And I was just thinking I'd have to go kip under a tree and wait for morning when I saw that dear coming and you following."

"You didn't see anyone else?" Harry asked at once as Albus turned to look in Severus's direction, only to see that his old friend had long since left, leaving the rest up to them.

"No," said Ron. "I -" but his voice died in his throat a she turned behind him to where Severus had been hiding before. "I did think I saw something move over there, but I was running to the pool at the time, because you'd gone in and you hadn't come up, so I wasn't going to make a detour to - hey!"

Harry went running over to check it out, staring around for any signs of who was there, but there wasn't any use. After several minutes, convinced that the two were alone, Harry turned and walked back to where Ron was still waiting for him, cautiously asking if there was anything there. Harry shook his head and the two began to talk about the sword, looking at it in the wandlight.

"You reckon this is the real one?" asked Ron wonderingly.

Harry looked to the Horcrux and said, "One way to find out, isn't there?"

Albus also glanced down at the locket and his eyes narrowed when he saw that it was twitching slightly, as if it sensed that the object that can destroy it was near. That's why it tried to kill Harry… because it knew that the sword was the real thing. They had to destroy that thing now… it had grown to become very powerful since it fell into Umbridge's hands—and will only continue to grow stronger still unless they put a stop to it now.

"Come here," Harry said to Ron, leading him to a large, flat rock in the shadows of a sycamore tree. He set the Horcrux down as Ron held out the sword, but Harry shook his head.

"No," he said, "You should do it."

"Ah, very good Harry," Albus smiled, glad to see that he understood. "Very good."

"Me?" said Ron, looking shocked. "Why?"

"Because it was you who the sword answered the call too," Albus said. In his desire to save his friend, the sword responded to that desire and that was how he was about to use it to their full potential. It is very important for Harry to understand those kinds of things—not many wizards do, but the ones who can recognize them will be rewarded very dearly in the end.

"Because you got the sword out of the pool," Harry said. "I think it's supposed to be you."

Albus smiled proudly as Harry had his hands on the locket as he set it on the rock.

"I'm going to open it," he went on, "and you will stab it. Straightaway okay? Because whatever's in there will put up a fight. The bit of Riddle in the Diary tried to kill me."

"How are you going to open it?" asked Ron, suddenly looking terrified.

"I'm going to ask it to open, using Parseltongue," said Harry and Albus was surprised that he hadn't thought to use that before. But it does make perfect sense when you think about it now. Once again, Voldemort aided in his own downfall…

"No!" said Ron, his eyes full of terror. "Don't open it! I'm serious!"

"Why not?" asked Harry, looking up at him. "Let's get rid of the damn thing, it's been months -"

"I can't, Harry, I'm serious - you do it -" Ron pleaded desperately.

"But why?" Harry asked, a frown coming to his face.

"Because that thing's bad for me!" Ron finally declared, backing away from it as he started to tell him everything. "I can't handle it! I'm not making excuses, for what I was like, but it affects me worse than it affects you and Hermione, it made me think stuff - stuff that I was thinking anyway, but it made everything worse. I can't explain it, and then I'd take it off and I'd get my head straight again, and then I'd have to put the effing thing back on - I can't do it Harry!"

Albus's eyes sadden, knowing full well just how a Horcrux can mess with your mind and bring out your worst fears. He unconsciously reached for his hand, remembering how it had once been withered and caused him terrible pain the final year of his life… and for how his mind had been haunted by those ghosts of the past the moment he put that accursed thing on.

Ron continued to back away, as if it was something poisonous, shaking his head and his hand was shaking so badly that he almost dropped the sword. Harry's eyes softened at the fear he could see in his friend's face.

"You can do it," he said gently, encouragingly. "You can! You've got the sword, I know it's supposed to be you who uses it. Please just get rid of it Ron."

The tone in Harry's voice seemed to fill Ron up with some kind of courage. As if just hearing his name was helping him to keep going. He swallowed hard and slowly approached the rock, his hands gripping the sword tightly as he tried to stop the shaking.

"Tell me when," he croaked out with the air of a man about to do something against his will.

"On three," said Harry, looking back down at the locket and narrowing his eyes, as the locket continued to rattle around, as if fighting to get free.

"One… two… three…" Harry counted off and the next thing he said came out in a strangled hiss.

But then there was another hiss, and even a snarling sound from the locket as the little door opened with a click. And where the pictures usually went there were eyes looking back. Eyes that he remembered well… eyes that he remembered having belonged to a former student…

The same dark eyes that had once belonged to Tom Riddle… before they became what they are now.

"Stab!" Harry said, holding the locket steady and Ron raised the sword, the point dangled over the frantically swiveling eyes. They were looking around wildly, trying to find a way out of this mess before he heard them hiss… once they found Ron's face.

_"I have seen your heart, and it is mine."_

"No," Albus said anxiously. That was the piece of the soul talking now. He, himself, had heard that voice speak to him before when he put that ring on. It was now trying to prevent Ron from stabbing it by trying to scare him with his deepest fears…

And he had a terrible feeling what his fears were.

"Don't listen to it!" Harry yelled out to him when Ron froze. "Stab it!"

_"I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley," _the Horcrux said, _"And I have seen your fears. All you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible..."_

Ron was shaking so badly that it was a wonder he didn't drop the sword. Harry was shouting at him to snap out of it, but that was when the Horcrux began to speak again. How he was the least loved out of all his siblings and how the girl that he loved was in love with someone else. How he will always be second best, overshadowed forever…

Harry's voice cut through to him, yelling at him to stab the locket, but as Ron did so, the dark eyes in the locket turned scarlet…

No…

He couldn't watch what came next and so he turned away. But not before the two bubbles of Harry's and Hermione's faces blossomed out of the windows. He heard Ron yell in shock as he could hear Harry calling out Ron's name, but it was Riddle's voice he heard over everything else, taunting him asking why he came back when they were happier without him there.

Don't listen to it, Ron. Just do what you have to. He was stronger than this… but he knew that being tortured by your own fears and insecurities can make even the strongest man break. They continued to taunt him, with Harry yelling for him to hurry up and stab it.

"DO IT, RON!" Harry yelled out louder than ever before, just as he asked, "Ron -?"

It was that fear in Harry's voice that finally made Albus turn back to see Ron looking at Harry with Tom's eyes looking back. No… it was trying to possess him. Albus opened his mouth, but what he was going to say not even he knew. Harry dove out of the way however just as Ron seemed to seize control of himself and brought the sword crashing down onto the locket. It shattered and the piece of jewelry let out a terrible, drawn-out scream as the monstrous forms of Harry and Hermione that had been there before were gone.

Breathing hard, Albus looked to Ron, who was standing there with the sword in his hands, staring at what he had just done. Harry slowly walked back to him, looking as lost and confused as Ron did as tears began to fill the young man's eyes. Another Horcrux was gone and Ron had finally faced some of the fears that he had welling up in him.

But will they ever be alright again after something like that?

Harry picked up the broken and slightly smoking Horcrux as the sword fell to the ground with a loud clatter. Ron fell to his knees and covered his head with his arms, shaking violently. Harry stuffed the remains of the locket into his pocket before he knelt down next to him, a consoling hand on his shoulder.

But it was that moment, looking at these two, did Albus realize something. No matter what happened… these two—all three of them—have a bond stronger than family.

After a moment of silence, Harry finally said to him, "After you left… she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn't want me to see. There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. With you gone…"

Ron froze at his words as Harry seemed to be close to breaking down as well. He took a deep breath and told him the truth. "She's like my sister," he went on. "I love her like a sister and I reckon that she feels the same way about me. It's always been like that. I thought you knew."

Everyone did know… but Ron. It was just painful at how noticeable it was. How you could never know about something even when it was obvious to everyone else. Why was it that the things that we want to say the most to someone we love are the most difficult things to say?

Ron wiped his nose noisily on his sleeve as Harry went to where Ron's rucksack lay several yards away and picked it up. He took his time doing so, and by the time he got back, Ron got to his feet, and he could see that he had regained control of himself.

"I'm sorry," he said in a thick voice. "I'm sorry I left. I know I was a - a -"

There was nothing to apologize for. Yes, he did walk out, but he came back in the end and that was what mattered. And he made up for leaving by his acts of bravery tonight. And it shouldn't happen again now that the locket was gone.

"You've sort of made up for it tonight," said Harry, voicing what Albus had been thinking, as Ron looked around, trying to think of something to call himself. "Getting the sword. Finishing off the Horcrux. Saving my life."

"That makes me sound a lot cooler than I was," Ron mumbled as a shadow of a smile came back and Albus finally chuckled.

"Stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was" said Harry in a serious voice. "I've been trying to tell you that for years."

They looked long and hard at each other before they both walked forward and hugged each other hard. Albus smiled at the sight… once again feeling jealous at having such a close bond. Even after such a disastrous fight that would normally end friendships, they were able to put it past them once they finally understood. It had always seemed that way with the three of them. They have their share of fights but they can't seem to stand the thought of being apart for long. As well as always having something dangerous to bring them together again.

"And now," said Harry as they broke apart, "All we've got to do is find that tent again."

The two didn't talk much through the long walk back to the tent. With Harry the only one of them who could find it, and so Ron lagged behind. Yet, Albus suspected that this was dread at the thought of confronting Hermione… who he had a feeling may not be as accepting as Harry was.

Yes, Ron was going to have a time trying to explain to her his actions, which he was sure she wasn't going to forgive him so easily. Harry however seemed to be almost bouncing with excitement as they found the tent and stepped inside. She was fast asleep, and it took a few minutes for Harry to shake her awake.

Finally, he called her name loudly, and that got her attention. She sat up quickly, pushing her hair out of her face and said anxiously, "What's wrong? Harry? Are you all right?"

"It's okay, everything's fine," Harry said, "More than fine, I'm great. There's someone here."

"Don't say that, Harry," Albus said, his own mood brighter than ever.

"What do you mean? Who -?" she asked worriedly before she saw Ron, who was still holding the sword and dripping wet. Harry backed away so that she could move towards him with her eyes wide and expression holding nothing but shock. For one moment it looked like she was about to hug him… but then…

She threw herself at him and began to punch every inch of him that she could reach. Albus actually laughed openly at the sight of it all. Knowing that they were going to be ok, he opened his eyes, his heart lighter than it had been for a long time. He couldn't believe how far they had come in such a short time… they had found the Horcrux, gotten the sword, and destroyed. Sure, they stumbled and gotten lost along the way, they ended up getting there in the end.

But that still left the other Horcruxes…

He stared off into the mists for a very long time after that, just lost in thought.

Over the next couple days, tension between the three of them was on the rather tense side when it came to Hermione and Ron. She was still furious with him, and oftentimes pretended that he wasn't even around. But Albus was sure that her anger with him will fade over time… at least he _hoped_ it would.

But whenever Ron was alone with Harry, he would keep saying to him over and over again, "Someone helped us. Someone sent that doe, someone's on our side, One Horcrux down, mate!"

Harry only smiled back, and it was so good to see that smile there again after all that that Albus was having a hard time keeping the smile from his own face. The three of them had needed this serious confidence boost and it couldn't have come any later. But as he watched the boys looking for some blackberries in some hedges, or at least pretended to, Harry told Ron everything that had happened while he was gone; including their trip to Godric's Hollow. While Ron, in turn, told him everything that he had heard that had been going on in the Wizarding World. But he asked Harry how he found out about the Taboo after he told him of some of the desperate attempts of the Muggle-borns trying to evade the Ministry.

Albus had been keeping a close eye on his old students and their families during this time and he had been relieved to see some of them had been lucky enough to successfully go into hiding. Others… weren't so lucky. He had been greeting a great number of people in this in-between world lately and it broke his heart over and over at the thought of how such people who had bright futures and loved ones had left this world.

"The what?" Harry asked in puzzlement.

"You and Hermione have stopped saying You-Know-Who's name!" Ron pointed out.

"Oh, yeah, Well, it's just a bad habit we've slipped into," said Harry in understanding. "But I haven't got a problem calling him V -"

"NO!" roared Ron, causing Harry to fall into the ledge and Hermione to scowl over at them. Ron tried to apologize, but Albus shook his head, glad that Ron was able to tell them the dangers in using that name. He blinked before he shook his head at what he had just thought. And here he had never seen the harm in using the name before. Ron was now telling him about how they had jinxed the name and how they track people and how it breaks protective enchantments.

This wasn't good at all. It definitely made things so much easier for the Death Eaters to capture Order members or anyone who was willing to stand up to Voldemort. Kingsley had been lucky to escape his encounter when he said the name. But he was concerned greatly for he knew this will be especially hard for Harry since he was so used to saying it; it would be so easy for him to forget all about it and blurt it out.

"Because we used his name?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Exactly!" Ron said serioiusly, "You've got to give them credit. It makes sense. It was only people who were serious about standing up to him, like Dumbledore, who even dared use it. Now they've put a Taboo on it, anyone who says it is trackable - quick-and-easy way to find Order members! They nearly got Kingsley -"

It really is an ingenious idea. Quick and simple and you don't even have to work that hard. Kingsley had decided to test this rumor himself and he had been cornered by three Death Eaters at the end of an alleyway for it. He had been able to fight his way out of it and sent a warning to the other Order members about that before he disappeared. Albus did feel a little satisfaction in knowing that two of those Death Eaters were still in the hospital after he got through with them.

"You're kidding?" Harry asked with concern on his face.

"Yeah, a bunch of Death Eaters cornered him, Bill said but he fought his way out. He's on the run now just like us," Ron informed him.

Albus sighed grimly. Gone into hiding yes… just like everyone else these days.

Ron scratched his chin thoughtfully with the end of his wand before he asked, "You don't reckon Kingsley could have sent that doe?"

Albus was a little surprise by that he would come up with that suggestion. But no, for Kingsley's Patronus is a lynx, not a doe. Harry remembered this fact and reminded him that they had seen it at the wedding. They didn't say anything for a moment as they moved a little farther along the hedge and Ron asked, surprising Albus once again, "Harry… you don't reckon it could've been Dumbledore?"

Harry barely glanced up as he said, a little coldly, "Dumbledore what?"

Ron looked a little embarrassed, but said in a low voice, "Dumbledore… the doe? I mean," Ron was watching Harry out of the corners of his eyes, "he had the real sword last, didn't he?"

"I wish I could continue to help you, Ronald," Albus said softly. "And though a part of us will never leave you alone… the problem is that the dead can't send Patronuses. Besides, my Patronus is a phoenix."

But Harry didn't laugh as he looked grim again. It was impossible to know what was going on inside his head at the moment. But soon he shook his head. "Dumbledore's dead," he said firmly. "I saw it happen, I saw the body. He's definitely gone. Anyway his Patronus was a phoenix, not a doe"

"Patronuses can change, though can't they?" said Ron, "Tonks's changed didn't it?"

Yes, but the way that a Patronus works is that it appears as a reflection of a person's soul. But if that person loved another more than they love their own live, then that is when it can take on the reflection of that person.

"Yeah, but if Dumbledore was alive, why wouldn't he show himself? Why wouldn't he just hand us the sword?" Harry asked suddenly.

Not that he wouldn't want to see them again face-to-face, the problem is that to use the sword properly they would have to earn it. He couldn't be sure if it would destroy the Horcrux any other way. The Basilisk venom is in the sword to be sure, but he wasn't sure the success would be as definite.

"Search me," said Ron. "Same reason he didn't give it to you while he was alive? Same reason he left you an old Snitch and Hermione a book of kid's stories?"

"Which is what?" asked Harry, turning to look Ron full in the face, his eyes full of a desperation for some answers.

"I dunno," said Ron at once. "Sometimes I've thought, when I've been a bit hacked off, he was having a laugh or - or he just wanted to make it more difficult."

Albus looked away. This was far from a laugh for him, but it was necessary to slow them down.

"But I don't think so, not anymore," Ron added and Albus glanced up. "He knew what he was doing when he gave me the Deluminator, didn't he? He - well," Ron's ears turned bright red and he became engrossed in a tuft of grass at his feet, which he prodded with his toe, "he must've known I'd run out on you."

Oh no. That wasn't to intention at all, and he was glad to hear Harry say the real reason.

"No," Harry corrected him. "He must've known you'd always want to come back."

Albus nodding slightly. Now _that_ was the truth. He had known many people who have acted rashly in a moment of passion and have desperately searched for a way to rectify their mistake. Himself, included.

Ron looked grateful, but still awkward. Harry then asked him, "Speaking of Dumbledore, have you heard what Skeeter wrote about him?"

"Oh yeah," said Ron at once as Albus flinched at the awful reminder of that book. "People are talking about it quite a lot. 'Course, if things were different it'd be huge news, Dumbledore being pals with Grindelwald, but now it's just something to laugh about for people who didn't like Dumbledore, and a bit of a slap in the face for everyone who thought he was such a good bloke. I don't know that it's such a big deal, though. He was really young when they -"

Not a good argument. He's already been through that with Hermione.

"Our age," said Harry, coldly and the look of anger on his face said it all. Albus looked away again, once more ashamed at the reminder of how much Harry was disappointed in him. Rather than talk more about it, Harry decided to test out the spare wand that Ron had managed to steal from those Snatchers. He spotted a large spider and tried to make it grow bigger.

As he had thought the wand didn't do much compared to his old one. Wandlore was never something that Albus had been able to fully master but he knew that it depends on the wizard… and on the wand in question. He knew that Harry would find using either Ron's or Hermione's wands would have been a more acceptable result. In fact, Albus strongly believed that Ronald would've been able to use that wand more effectively since he was the one who took possession of it. Since Harry wasn't the one who won it, it did not feel inclined to work for him. He knew that the wand doesn't have a mind of its own, but there are bonds that are formed between them and the wizard.

"Stop that," said Ron sharply, "I'm sorry I said Dumbledore was young, okay?"

It was the strangest apology he had ever heard and he couldn't help but chuckle as Harry looked at him cringing away from the spider.

"Sorry – _Reducio_," he said. But the spider didn't shrink and Harry frowned down at the blackthorn wand.

"You just need to practice," said Hermione, who had approached them noiselessly from behind and had stood watching anxiously as Harry tried to enlarge and reduce the spider. "It's all a matter of confidence Harry."

Albus tilted his head thoughtfully. He was sure confidence and power and familiarity of the wand and wizard did have a bit of a factor in controlling a wand, and that the more familiar you get with the wand, the easier it will be to use. But it will never work for you like your chosen wand.

Harry looked like he was about to give her a retort, but seemed to think better on it and just nodded dully. Ron tried to smile at her, but she stalked off, away from him. The rest of the day went on rather peacefully, though still tense with Ron and Hermione there. Ron spent most of the time working on the wireless he had brought with him and tried to find Potterwatch on it.

He told Harry all about it, and Albus had to agree that he also deeply enjoyed hearing those stories. He would often sit through one of their broadcasts and listen in to how they would tell you everything like how it was.

Though it might be a little difficult tonight for Ron had forgotten the password to tune in. This week it was Fawkes it turns out and Albus felt a slight pang… missing one of his oldest friends already. Ron worked on it for some time, trying all sorts of words and names, hoping that they will be able to work. But he was also worried about upsetting Hermione and clearly afraid of some kind of outburst. Yet Hermione merely pretended not to listen as Harry continued to try and get the wand to work better.

But after about an hour, Hermione climbed down from her bunk and Ron stopped at once.

"If it's annoying you, I'll stop!" he told Hermione nervously.

Albus chuckled, wondering if they realized just how much like an old married couple they acted like. Hermione just continued to ignore him as she walked right up to Harry and said seriously, "We need to talk."

Harry looked up in surprise before glancing at the book in her hands. Albus groaned, really hoping that Hermione wasn't going to bring up anything else in that thing.

"What?" he said apprehensively and Hermione surprised them all by saying, "I want to go and see Xenophilius Lovegood."

Albus blinked in surprise at that, wondering just why she would want to go and see him all of a sudden.

"Sorry?" Harry asked, looking like how he felt.

"Xenophilius Lovegood," she repeated clearly, "Luna's father. I want to go and talk to him!"

"Er – why?" Harry asked her as she told him about the mark. She put the book under his gaze and pointing to the letter that Albus, himself, had written to Grindelwald.

"The signature," said Hermione. "Look at the signature, Harry!"

"Er – what are you - ?" said Ron tentatively, but fell silent when Hermione glared at him and looked back to Harry.

"It keeps cropping up, doesn't it?" she said to him. "I know Viktor said it was Grindelwald's mark, but it was definitely on that old grave in Godric's Hollow, and the dates on the headstone were long before Grindelwald came along! And now this! Well, we can't ask Dumbledore or Grindelwald what it means – I don't even know whether Grindelwald's still alive – but we can ask Mr. Lovegood. He was wearing the symbol at the wedding. I'm sure this is important, Harry!"

Albus had mixed feelings about that. He knew what happened to Luna, the poor girl, and Xenophilius was getting desperate to do something to get her back. Yes, he wanted them to learn about the mark, but that would just put them in danger as well as the Lovegoods.

Harry looked up at her, clearly trying to figure out what to do. At least he said, "Hermione, we don't need another Godric's Hollow. We talked ourselves into going there, and –"

He made a good point. He assumed that their run in with Nagini was a hard learned lesson.

"But it keeps appearing, Harry!" she said stubbornly, "Dumbledore left me The Tales of Beedle the Bard, how do you know we're not supposed to find out about the sign?"

Yes, it was important. But it doesn't matter at the moment since it would be putting them all in danger. Xenophilius wasn't a bad person, he would never willingly work for the Death Eaters, but he was also a parent. And parents are often willing to do almost anything for the sake of their children. If they went, he might be desperate enough to try and turn them over to Voldemort in a desperate attempt to save his daughter.

"Here we go again!" Harry felt slightly exasperated. "We keep trying to convince ourselves Dumbledore left us secret signs and clues –"

"The Deluminator turned out to be pretty useful," piped up Ron. "I think Hermione's right, I think we ought to go and see Lovegood."

Oh, he does, does he?

Harry gave Ron a dark look, clearly seeing right through his ruse.

"It won't be like Godric's Hollow," Ron added, trying to keep things friendly between all three of them. "Lovegood's on your side, Harry, The Quibbler's been for you all along, it keeps telling everyone they've got to help you!"

"I'm sure this is important!" said Hermione earnestly.

"But don't you think if it was, Dumbledore would have told me about it before he died?" Harry asked and Albus frowned. He should have told him about it… but he wanted them to figure it out themselves. He wanted to prove that he did have faith in him and trusted him enough to be able to do this difficult job.

"Maybe… maybe it's something you need to find out for yourself," said Hermione, though Albus wasn't sure she truly believed that.

"Yeah," said Ron submissively, "that makes sense."

"No, it doesn't," snapped Hermione, and Albus's mouth twitched a little at that, knowing that she was just disagreeing with Ron for the sake of it. But Hermione turned back to Harry and told him that she truly thought that they should go talk to Xenophilius about that symbol. How it linked Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Godric's Hollow. She was sure that they needed to know about this.

Ron offered a vote, and naturally, he voted for Hermione and for a moment it looked as though she might smile at him.

"Outvoted, Harry, sorry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.

"Fine," said Harry, and he looked torn between laughing and yelling at him. "Only, once we've seen Lovegood, let's try and look for some more Horcruxes, shall we? Where do the Lovegood's live, anyway? Do either of you know?"

"Yeah, they're not far from my place," said Ron at once, clearly looking to be helpful. "I dunno exactly where, but Mum and Dad always point toward the hills whenever they mention them. Shouldn't be hard to find."

He wondered if there was a chance that they go to the Burrow. But then he knew better. If they went there, Molly would never let them leave again.

Hermione returned to her bunk, Harry turned to Ron and whispered, "You only agreed to try and get back in her good books."

Albus only laughed when Ron told him brightly, "All's fair in love and war and this is a bit of both. Cheer up, it's the Christmas holidays, Luna'll be home!"

But that smile was wiped off right away at the reminder of where Luna really was at that moment. He had visited her and Ollivander in the Malfoy's cell, and tried to give them as much comfort as he could give them. As well as trying to be there for young Draco Malfoy, who was now being haunted by some of the many horrors that he was forced to see and do as well. Albus shook his head, his heart hurting at not being able to help a young man who foolishly chose wrong over right.

They finished packing up and the three of them Disapparated to Ottery St. Catchopole that next morning. From their high vantage point the village looked like a collection of toy houses in the great slanting shafts of sunlight stretching to earth in the breaks between clouds. They stood for a minute or two looking toward the Burrow, their hands shadowing their eyes, but all they could make out were the high hedges and trees of the orchard, which afforded the crooked little house protection from Muggle eyes.

"It's weird, being this near, but not going to visit," said Ron wistfully, looking in the direction of where his house was.

"Well, it's not like you haven't just seen them. You were there for Christmas," said Hermione coldly.

"I wasn't at the Burrow!" said Ron with an incredulous laugh. "Do you think I was going to go back there and tell them all I'd walked out on you? Yeah, Fred and George would've been great about it. And Ginny, she'd have been really understanding."

"But where have you been, then?" asked Hermione, surprised. Ron told them about how he had gone to Bill, telling him everything that happened while he was gone and they headed up over the top of the hill. It was difficult for them to find, Harry walked under the Invisibility Cloak while they wandered for several hours, searching house after house for a clue to where the Lovegoods lived.

And inside lived a desperate man who loved his only daughter with all his heart.

**(Again, another long wait, sorry about that. But we finally have Ron back and are reaching towards the Lovegoods place where we all know what happened there. We are reaching the end of this story and I hope that you are all looking forward to the ending as much as I am.)**


End file.
